 | Later Lyrics |  |
216
WITHOUT AND WITHIN.
Go away to the world's wild hubbub:
I cannot go with thee;
For the deep home-anchors hold me
From the waves of that yeasty sea,
Where, the sun my fresh sail gilding,
We once held company.
I cannot go with thee;
For the deep home-anchors hold me
From the waves of that yeasty sea,
Where, the sun my fresh sail gilding,
We once held company.
If the vain and the silly bind thee,
I cannot unlock thy chain;
If sin and the senses blind thee,
Thyself must endure the pain;
If the arrows of conscience find thee,
Thou must conquer thy peace again.
I cannot unlock thy chain;
If sin and the senses blind thee,
Thyself must endure the pain;
If the arrows of conscience find thee,
Thou must conquer thy peace again.
217
Here the line that runs between us
Is narrow, but black as night:
Faith sits passive this side the border,
More happy, perhaps, than sight;
And I wring me slow drops of comfort
Where once I drank swift delight.
Is narrow, but black as night:
Faith sits passive this side the border,
More happy, perhaps, than sight;
And I wring me slow drops of comfort
Where once I drank swift delight.
For I sit here with lovelorn Tasso;
With Dante, hooded and crowned;
While, further, the classic satyrs
Beat the old Virgilian ground;
And I hark for the Flaccian lyre,
Till spirit comes back for sound.
With Dante, hooded and crowned;
While, further, the classic satyrs
Beat the old Virgilian ground;
And I hark for the Flaccian lyre,
Till spirit comes back for sound.
Here I sit with the scornful Roman
Who tells his grim tale so cold
Of the vanishing Southern nation,
And the Northerns bright-haired and bold:
Last year 'twas a breathless story,
But now 'tis a tale oft told.
Who tells his grim tale so cold
Of the vanishing Southern nation,
And the Northerns bright-haired and bold:
Last year 'twas a breathless story,
But now 'tis a tale oft told.
218
And the sons of Science around me
Reach help from reservèd hands:
They have spread their net for the Godhood,
And bound Him with close-wove bands,
While He counts their small thoughts in His balance
With minutes, and drops, and sands.
Reach help from reservèd hands:
They have spread their net for the Godhood,
And bound Him with close-wove bands,
While He counts their small thoughts in His balance
With minutes, and drops, and sands.
I am here with the prophets whose warnings
In the golden eternity fall;
I am here with the good Physician
Who healeth both great and small;
I am here with the great soul-masters;
And sorrow, greater than all.
In the golden eternity fall;
I am here with the good Physician
Who healeth both great and small;
I am here with the great soul-masters;
And sorrow, greater than all.
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