Orellana and Other Poems By J. Logie Robertson |
| I. |
| II. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| I. |
| II. | II.—TO THE PAINTER. |
| I. |
| II. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| Orellana and Other Poems | ||
II.—TO THE PAINTER.
Creator of The Christ! when first I stood
Before thy handiwork, and overawed
Beheld the mystery of the Son of God
Sinless yet suffering in the midnight wood,
Suffering, and yet to suffering quite subdued,
How could I think of thee? how could I laud
The power that pained me so? or how applaud
In presence of that brow with blood bedewed?
Before thy handiwork, and overawed
Beheld the mystery of the Son of God
Sinless yet suffering in the midnight wood,
Suffering, and yet to suffering quite subdued,
How could I think of thee? how could I laud
The power that pained me so? or how applaud
In presence of that brow with blood bedewed?
And yet I owe a dearer debt to thee
Than I have paid to any: there will rise
Within my memory Paul; yet even he,
The great Apostle, failed to realise
As thou hast done, for thou hast made me see
The Christ in Scotland with my actual eyes!
Than I have paid to any: there will rise
Within my memory Paul; yet even he,
The great Apostle, failed to realise
225
The Christ in Scotland with my actual eyes!
Great Painter! unto thee the awful dower
Of genius has been given to dare and do,—
To image Deity in pain, pursue
The image into act, hour after hour,
And bid it live! I tremble for the power,
God-lent and (surely for great ends) to few,
That thus creates the agony anew
Which God hid in Gethsemanë's dark bower!
Of genius has been given to dare and do,—
To image Deity in pain, pursue
The image into act, hour after hour,
And bid it live! I tremble for the power,
God-lent and (surely for great ends) to few,
That thus creates the agony anew
Which God hid in Gethsemanë's dark bower!
—For they will come, the idle and the rude,
And these will praise thy skill, and those will blame;
And some, indulgent of a prying mood,
Will stand and stare, departing as they came;
And thou wilt seem, thy work misunderstood,
In these to put the Lord to open shame!
And these will praise thy skill, and those will blame;
And some, indulgent of a prying mood,
Will stand and stare, departing as they came;
And thou wilt seem, thy work misunderstood,
In these to put the Lord to open shame!
| Orellana and Other Poems | ||