 | Voices and visions |  |
48
CONTEMPLATIONS
I
ONE TOUCH OF NATURE
I believed thee, friend, with unflinching faith, I revered and loved thee well,
Till the foe drew near whom I need not name, with his hints like sparks from hell.
He showed me a blot that I dared not doubt on thy large unsullied soul;
He tore from the sacred head of my saint its illumining aureole.
Till the foe drew near whom I need not name, with his hints like sparks from hell.
He showed me a blot that I dared not doubt on thy large unsullied soul;
He tore from the sacred head of my saint its illumining aureole.
Oh, strange by the shattered statue's form to watch where its fragments lie!
From the lute's half-ruptured strings, oh, strange to hear the old music sigh!
Oh, strange where the bounteous lamp once beamed, its enfeebled flame to scan!
In place of the white-browed god, oh, strange to behold but the earthly man!
From the lute's half-ruptured strings, oh, strange to hear the old music sigh!
Oh, strange where the bounteous lamp once beamed, its enfeebled flame to scan!
In place of the white-browed god, oh, strange to behold but the earthly man!
And yet is perfection always rich in the rarer, the subtler charms?
Would the Venus of Melos lure the same were she reendowed with arms?
Has the speckless pearl a delight to match the pearl that must always bear
Its pathos of one little birth-mark flaw to remind us it still is fair?
Would the Venus of Melos lure the same were she reendowed with arms?
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Its pathos of one little birth-mark flaw to remind us it still is fair?
So now, while I feel thee fallible thus, I find (as 'twere fate's choice boon!)
That reverence had keyed my love too high, and that sympathy sets it in tune.
Nay, the fault I have loathed for the stain it stamps on a purity such as thine,
Makes thee dearer still to my human heart, since it leaves thee less divine.
That reverence had keyed my love too high, and that sympathy sets it in tune.
Nay, the fault I have loathed for the stain it stamps on a purity such as thine,
Makes thee dearer still to my human heart, since it leaves thee less divine.
[II A thousand years ago]
A thousand years ago
Two lovers, fond as we,
Saw the rich moondawn glow
On glooms of breezy sea.
The same titanic moon, the same swart waves!
Where are those lovers? Who may break the oblivion of their graves?
Two lovers, fond as we,
Saw the rich moondawn glow
On glooms of breezy sea.
The same titanic moon, the same swart waves!
Where are those lovers? Who may break the oblivion of their graves?
A thousand years from now
Two lovers will behold
A moondawn wake and plough
These tides to airy gold.
The same grand moon, the same lulled sea's caress!
Where are those unborn lovers? Who shall dare even dream or guess?
Two lovers will behold
A moondawn wake and plough
These tides to airy gold.
The same grand moon, the same lulled sea's caress!
Where are those unborn lovers? Who shall dare even dream or guess?
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A thousand years ago?
A thousand years from now? ...
Let us not care to know
If ardour of kiss or vow
To slumberous past or mystic future be
Either, for time's unswerving sweep, memory or prophecy!
A thousand years from now? ...
Let us not care to know
If ardour of kiss or vow
To slumberous past or mystic future be
Either, for time's unswerving sweep, memory or prophecy!
Let us this one supreme
Night so augustly dower
With passion that 'twill seem
A dark yet gorgeous flower,
Blossoming for love to pluck, for love to bruise,
For love with holy and fiery tears to dim its heavenly hues!
Night so augustly dower
With passion that 'twill seem
A dark yet gorgeous flower,
Blossoming for love to pluck, for love to bruise,
For love with holy and fiery tears to dim its heavenly hues!
III
HOME-COMING
Back after journeying leagues of guileful sea,
Back from long tarriance among climes remote.
Back from long tarriance among climes remote.
I did not guess what heats of amity
Lay hidden among the hearts of these my friends.
Absence has clothed me with a purple state,
Crowned me and sceptred me a transient king
With those I love and those I had dreamed till now
Not half so rich in love's warm loyalties;
While clear through every greeting, equable
As breezes through a grove of sister trees,
One bland familiar human impulse floats!
Different indeed the welcome, had I fared
Back from that vaporous voyage we all must make
Sooner or later to the Unknowable!
How then the faces leaned toward mine would flash
With query, amazement, awe! How Faith would clutch
My hand victoriously! How Science, then,
Eager for larger lore, would clasp my knees!
And ah, how chill Negation's eyes of ice
Would blaze upon me their supreme surprise!
Lay hidden among the hearts of these my friends.
Absence has clothed me with a purple state,
Crowned me and sceptred me a transient king
With those I love and those I had dreamed till now
Not half so rich in love's warm loyalties;
While clear through every greeting, equable
As breezes through a grove of sister trees,
One bland familiar human impulse floats!
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Back from that vaporous voyage we all must make
Sooner or later to the Unknowable!
How then the faces leaned toward mine would flash
With query, amazement, awe! How Faith would clutch
My hand victoriously! How Science, then,
Eager for larger lore, would clasp my knees!
And ah, how chill Negation's eyes of ice
Would blaze upon me their supreme surprise!
IV
ENCOURAGEMENT
Pause if the adverse phrase
Too careless from your lips
Unpitying slips,
Whene'er you are prompted to dispraise
Man's dreams in poem or painting wrought,
Music or marble. Ask your thought
If power and purpose may not here
Inseparably bide,
Yet to your cursory heed appear
Valueless because dim-descried.
From charms of sky, field, brook,
Coldly one oft will turn,
While some more fortunate look,
Gifted with keener pupil, suppler lid,
Magic may there discern
And treasure. To the Egyptian, drowsy-eyed,
Half its grey grandeur may perforce be hid,
Even as the pages of an unread book,
By his familiar yet proud pyramid.
Too careless from your lips
Unpitying slips,
Whene'er you are prompted to dispraise
Man's dreams in poem or painting wrought,
Music or marble. Ask your thought
If power and purpose may not here
Inseparably bide,
Yet to your cursory heed appear
Valueless because dim-descried.
From charms of sky, field, brook,
Coldly one oft will turn,
While some more fortunate look,
Gifted with keener pupil, suppler lid,
Magic may there discern
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Half its grey grandeur may perforce be hid,
Even as the pages of an unread book,
By his familiar yet proud pyramid.
Ye that, being human, therefore should be kind,
Bear well in mind
That he who strives to trim art's holy flame,
Finds in the applausive glance
Given him sincerely, zest for larger aim—
For loftier effort finds rare sustenance.
Spleen on conspicuous faults forbear to wreak,
Nor merely carp and cavil at what is weak
In his creation. Better gaze askance
At flaws, remembering how rich help is lent
By even a whispered word
Heard faintly, and yet when heard
Dear as choice balms to limbs fatigue hath spent,
A boon and benediction sweetly blent,
Live with the elixir of encouragement.
Bear well in mind
That he who strives to trim art's holy flame,
Finds in the applausive glance
Given him sincerely, zest for larger aim—
For loftier effort finds rare sustenance.
Spleen on conspicuous faults forbear to wreak,
Nor merely carp and cavil at what is weak
In his creation. Better gaze askance
At flaws, remembering how rich help is lent
By even a whispered word
Heard faintly, and yet when heard
Dear as choice balms to limbs fatigue hath spent,
A boon and benediction sweetly blent,
Live with the elixir of encouragement.
V
HOLLYHOCKS
Your long stalks bend not, though some drowsy breezeComes flying to their gay blooms with warm caress;
And yet you allure and cheer us, none the less,
By sturdy beauty and honest homespun ease.
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Dear charms of domesticity you possess,
In simple uncoquettish motherliness
Taking the homage of allegiant bees.
Around you countless happy memories thrive:
We hear the cluck of chickens or low of kine;
We see the old dog, the willow gnarled and great,
The meek grey horse that rosy children drive,
The mossy well with lattice-tangled vine,
The lovers loitering by the moonlit gate.
[VI O Prejudice, thou spider shrewd]
O Prejudice, thou spider shrewd,For ever weaving on, in wicked mood,
From threads of slander, threads of shame,
Thy cobwebs through the halls of fame,
Till Death, with besom bluff and strong,
From groins and rafters where they throng,
Sweeps clear away
The unclean array!
[VII There are three ways God might reveal Himself]
There are three ways God might reveal Himself
To one that sought His deity full declared.
To one that sought His deity full declared.
The first, through Nature—mountain, valley or sea,
From heaven's height to cave's deep; from clod to star.
From heaven's height to cave's deep; from clod to star.
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The second, still through Nature, and that man's—
His loftier doings, his diviner aims.
His loftier doings, his diviner aims.
The third, through Scriptures—Bible or Koran,
Or Zendavesta—words that seem God's own.
Or Zendavesta—words that seem God's own.
Of these three ways, tired mortal, which thy choice?
Either, or none? If none, doubt bravely on.
Either, or none? If none, doubt bravely on.
[VIII If, after many a year of cold eclipse]
If, after many a year of cold eclipse,
I broke death's bonds and breathed once more on earth,
What question, then, from these long-exiled lips,
Would leap to instant and impetuous birth?
I broke death's bonds and breathed once more on earth,
What question, then, from these long-exiled lips,
Would leap to instant and impetuous birth?
How sweet of Science, and its new stronger sway,
To ask! Yet all such query, I do avow,
Would be postponed that I might merely say:
‘Tell me what new grand poet have ye now?’
To ask! Yet all such query, I do avow,
Would be postponed that I might merely say:
‘Tell me what new grand poet have ye now?’
[IX Imperious to the dying rose rang forth]
Imperious to the dying rose rang forth
A blare of autumn, like a blast of fate:
‘The South was once your lover; now the North
Shall whelm you with a wave of equal hate.
Quick from your lissome leaves the glad red goes—
Quick from their deep heart floats the fragrant breath!
Of all your beauty and grace, O boastful rose,
I am the desolation and the death!’
A blare of autumn, like a blast of fate:
‘The South was once your lover; now the North
Shall whelm you with a wave of equal hate.
Quick from your lissome leaves the glad red goes—
Quick from their deep heart floats the fragrant breath!
Of all your beauty and grace, O boastful rose,
I am the desolation and the death!’
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Mysterious where a withered rose-tree grew,
Murmured Spring's voice, half cadence, half caress:
‘Wake, flower, below bland calms of summer blue,
With lures of reincarnate loveliness!
Back to your phantom leaves the sly red flows—
Full soon with heavenly balm shall they be rife!
Of all your beauty and grace, O trustful rose,
I am the resurrection and the life!’
Murmured Spring's voice, half cadence, half caress:
‘Wake, flower, below bland calms of summer blue,
With lures of reincarnate loveliness!
Back to your phantom leaves the sly red flows—
Full soon with heavenly balm shall they be rife!
Of all your beauty and grace, O trustful rose,
I am the resurrection and the life!’
X
A VISION OF PROGRESS
I dreamed that on some planet like our own
Man had for certainty at last found out
There was no God. All possibility
Of faith had shrivelled into nothingness.
The secret of the Sphinx at last was told;
The universe had no more mystery
Wherewith to enmantle its magnificence.
Knowledge reigned victor; from minutest life
To lordliest she had solved the Why and Whence.
Man had for certainty at last found out
There was no God. All possibility
Of faith had shrivelled into nothingness.
The secret of the Sphinx at last was told;
The universe had no more mystery
Wherewith to enmantle its magnificence.
Knowledge reigned victor; from minutest life
To lordliest she had solved the Why and Whence.
Then thousands, crying in horror and dismay
‘There is no God!’ slew misery and despair
By the same stab, leap, bane that slew themselves,
Till all the lands reeked red with suicide.
‘There is no God!’ slew misery and despair
By the same stab, leap, bane that slew themselves,
Till all the lands reeked red with suicide.
But myriads more (so marked I in my dream)
Dared to live on, desired it, and communed
Thus with their own souls: ‘Die, if so ye must;
Humanity is with immortality
Still wedded; right and justice, truth and love
Shall be our deity. Tear our churches down;
Too long their spires have pointed to a lie.
Far holier temples than their holiness
Are built invisibly yet palpably
By mutual pity, fellowship, and help.’
Dared to live on, desired it, and communed
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Humanity is with immortality
Still wedded; right and justice, truth and love
Shall be our deity. Tear our churches down;
Too long their spires have pointed to a lie.
Far holier temples than their holiness
Are built invisibly yet palpably
By mutual pity, fellowship, and help.’
Years passed like minutes in my dream. I saw
Life grown a sanctitude of high resolve,
Centred in one divine democracy,
With Now and Here its region of reward,
Not fabulous Hereafter. And I saw
Death utterly dispeopled of its dreads,
Ghosts, legends, fantasies and menaces.
Life grown a sanctitude of high resolve,
Centred in one divine democracy,
With Now and Here its region of reward,
Not fabulous Hereafter. And I saw
Death utterly dispeopled of its dreads,
Ghosts, legends, fantasies and menaces.
Then, in my dream, I said to my glad heart,
‘Knowledge hath told this world there is no God,
Yet left it love and cast out fear of death.
Surely such boon of unexampled peace
Were worth a million vacuous creeds and prayers!’
‘Knowledge hath told this world there is no God,
Yet left it love and cast out fear of death.
Surely such boon of unexampled peace
Were worth a million vacuous creeds and prayers!’
[XI To the ivy said the oak]
To the ivy said the oak:
‘Half my majesty you cloak,
Half my power and pride efface!
You are beauteous, yet I vow
That I tire, through bole and bough,
Of your burdening embrace.’
‘Half my majesty you cloak,
Half my power and pride efface!
You are beauteous, yet I vow
That I tire, through bole and bough,
Of your burdening embrace.’
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From the heavens a wild storm broke,
Gashed with lightning the grand oak,
Then in roars of wrath withdrew.
But the pitying ivy twined
Round the great tree's ruined rind,
And so veiled its blight from view.
Gashed with lightning the grand oak,
Then in roars of wrath withdrew.
But the pitying ivy twined
Round the great tree's ruined rind,
And so veiled its blight from view.
[XII We greet with quickening pulse the story]
We greet with quickening pulse the story
That shrouds a warrior's name in glory.
That shrouds a warrior's name in glory.
Yet loftier courage means the giving
Far less to dying than to living.
Far less to dying than to living.
It means with grip no stress can sever
To clutch the sword of high endeavour,
To clutch the sword of high endeavour,
And wage, in patience and persistence,
This bloodless battle called existence.
This bloodless battle called existence.
XIII
THE OUTLOOK
We prate of progress with so sure
A trust in its firm onward sweep,
As though mankind from sluggard sleep
Had risen, and sturdier and more pure,
Since warmed by his awakening hour,
Bloomed unmolested into statelier power.
A trust in its firm onward sweep,
As though mankind from sluggard sleep
Had risen, and sturdier and more pure,
Since warmed by his awakening hour,
Bloomed unmolested into statelier power.
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Nay, Evolution, in thy name
Bewildering errors have been wrought.
Thou deadenest retrospective thought
Until its reach and scope are lame,
Until even fancy's backward bound
Thrills, pauses, at thine origins profound.
Bewildering errors have been wrought.
Thou deadenest retrospective thought
Until its reach and scope are lame,
Until even fancy's backward bound
Thrills, pauses, at thine origins profound.
Centuries are thy mere minutes; all
Of seeming betterment we trace
In any or every earthly race
To-morrow extinction with her pall
May shroud; and where vast sea now sighs,
Old submerged continents may re-arise!
Of seeming betterment we trace
In any or every earthly race
To-morrow extinction with her pall
May shroud; and where vast sea now sighs,
Old submerged continents may re-arise!
Once more from protoplasm's dull mire
May man crawl slothful, and once more
May nature thrust him, as of yore,
Through ape and cannibal to higher,
Till superstition's loom re-weaves
New mythic Edens, with new Adams, Eves.
May man crawl slothful, and once more
May nature thrust him, as of yore,
Through ape and cannibal to higher,
Till superstition's loom re-weaves
New mythic Edens, with new Adams, Eves.
Once more the old train of tragic things
May find our history so rehearsed
That poor mortality will be cursed
By new popes, priests, fanatics, kings,
New Neros, Torquemadas, new
Odiums of sect, with all dire deeds they do.
May find our history so rehearsed
That poor mortality will be cursed
By new popes, priests, fanatics, kings,
New Neros, Torquemadas, new
Odiums of sect, with all dire deeds they do.
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Again, for ages dim as dream,
The annihilation may precede
The recommencement. Love, hate, greed,
Humanity, envy, ruth, may seem
To threads of that famed broidery kin
Which the Greek Queen, unravelling, would re-spin.
The annihilation may precede
The recommencement. Love, hate, greed,
Humanity, envy, ruth, may seem
To threads of that famed broidery kin
Which the Greek Queen, unravelling, would re-spin.
But always through each phase of change
Loitering, will flow henceforth as flows
To-day, one strenuous force (who knows?)
Toward riper growth and richer range. ...
It cost a million million years
To shape your eye that sees, mine ear that hears.
Loitering, will flow henceforth as flows
To-day, one strenuous force (who knows?)
Toward riper growth and richer range. ...
It cost a million million years
To shape your eye that sees, mine ear that hears.
The individual perishes; man thrives,
Though æons of stern failure balk
With ruining hindrance. We may talk
Whole heavens of hope about our lives
Hereafter, while our spendthrift days
Glare at us here with sarcasm in their gaze.
Though æons of stern failure balk
With ruining hindrance. We may talk
Whole heavens of hope about our lives
Hereafter, while our spendthrift days
Glare at us here with sarcasm in their gaze.
Live for the actual balm or sting
Of joys and sufferings that concern
The intense keen present. Nay, nor turn
Mystery's mute acolyte, and swing
Blind faith's theatric censer, fraught
With suave insidious fumes that strangle thought!
Of joys and sufferings that concern
The intense keen present. Nay, nor turn
Mystery's mute acolyte, and swing
Blind faith's theatric censer, fraught
With suave insidious fumes that strangle thought!
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[XIV So many of us are dead before we die]
So many of us are dead before we die!The rhythm of life has lost for us all tune;
Our dial of sunshine hath forgot its noon;
We think in autumns, while the ungrudging sky
Still bends to us the effulgence of its June,
And every flower amid our garden's maze,
With each bluff zigzag bee that thither strays,
Plots blithe rebellion against winter's blast.
Thus we turn callous to the live day's deeds,
Deafening our ears howe'er the present pleads,
Crowning with memory's myrtles our pale past,
A thankless ghost that neither hears nor heeds.
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