 | The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan |  |
I.
On the mountain heights, in a cell of stone,
Dwelt Serapion;
There, winter and summer, he linger'd alone.
Dwelt Serapion;
There, winter and summer, he linger'd alone.
Most drear was the mountain and dismal the cell;
Yet he loved them well—
Contented and glad in their silence to dwell.
Yet he loved them well—
Contented and glad in their silence to dwell.
And ever his face wore an innocent ray,
And his spirit was gay,
And he sang, like the angels who sing far away!
And his spirit was gay,
And he sang, like the angels who sing far away!
The goathered, who gathered his flocks ere the night,
In the red sunset light,
Heard the voice ring above him, from height on to height.
In the red sunset light,
Heard the voice ring above him, from height on to height.
Ofttimes, from his cell on the cold mountain's crown,
He came merrily down,
And stood, with a smile, 'mid the folk in the town.
He came merrily down,
And stood, with a smile, 'mid the folk in the town.
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With raiment all ragged, worn shoon on his feet,
He walk'd in the street,
Yet his eyes were so happy, his voice was so sweet!
He walk'd in the street,
Yet his eyes were so happy, his voice was so sweet!
And ever his face wore the grace and the gleam
Of a beautiful dream,
Like the light of the sun shed asleep on a stream!
Of a beautiful dream,
Like the light of the sun shed asleep on a stream!
And the folk cried aloud, as they gathered to see:
‘Of all men that be,
The brightest and happiest surely is he!’
‘Of all men that be,
The brightest and happiest surely is he!’
And they question'd: ‘O! why is thy face ever bright,
And thy spirit so light,
Down here in the valley, up there on the height?’
And thy spirit so light,
Down here in the valley, up there on the height?’
He answer'd: ‘What makes me so happy and gay
Wheresoever I stray?
The Lord I behold all the night, all the day!
Wheresoever I stray?
The Lord I behold all the night, all the day!
‘He walks like a Shepherd in raiment of gold
On the mountain-tops cold;
He comes to my cell; on my knees I behold.
On the mountain-tops cold;
He comes to my cell; on my knees I behold.
‘He smiles like my father who died long ago;
His eyes sweetly glow—
Those eyes are as sapphires; His beard is as snow!
His eyes sweetly glow—
Those eyes are as sapphires; His beard is as snow!
‘Yea, night-time and day-time he comes to my call,
The dear Father of all,
With a face ever fair, with a solemn footfall!’
The dear Father of all,
With a face ever fair, with a solemn footfall!’
Then the folk cried again: ‘Of all mortals that be,
Surely gladdest is he!’ . . . .
Wise monks from afar came to hear and to see.
Surely gladdest is he!’ . . . .
Wise monks from afar came to hear and to see.
| The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | |