Clarel a poem and pilgrimage in the Holy Land |
 |
|
| 1. |
 | 1. |
| 2. |
| 1. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
| 21. |
| 22. |
| 23. |
| 24. |
| 25. |
| 26. |
| 27. |
| 28. |
| 29. |
| 30. |
| 31. |
| 32. |
| 33. |
| 34. |
| 35. |
| 36. |
| 37. |
| 38. |
| 39. |
| 2. |
 | Clarel |  |
Intent but poised, the Druze looked on:
“The sheath: the sword?”
“Ah, whither gone?”
Clarel, and bowed him there and kneeled:
“Whither art gone? thou friendliest mind
Unfriended—what friend now shalt find?
Robin or raven, hath God a bird
To come and strew thee, lone interred,
With leaves, when here left far behind?”
“The sheath: the sword?”
“Ah, whither gone?”
Clarel, and bowed him there and kneeled:
“Whither art gone? thou friendliest mind
Unfriended—what friend now shalt find?
Robin or raven, hath God a bird
To come and strew thee, lone interred,
With leaves, when here left far behind?”
“He's gone,” the Jew; “czars, stars must go
Or change! All's chymestry. Aye so.”—
“Resurget”—faintly Derwent there.
“In pace”—Vine, nor more would dare.
Or change! All's chymestry. Aye so.”—
“Resurget”—faintly Derwent there.
“In pace”—Vine, nor more would dare.
| Clarel | |