 | Women must weep |  |
BETWEEN THE BANKS.
I stood on the Bridge of a City
That holds the world in fee;
And the river's dolorous ditty
Went sobbing to the sea.
That holds the world in fee;
And the river's dolorous ditty
Went sobbing to the sea.
And the wind now mute, now moaning,
Seem'd full of a voiceless pain;
As if set to a sad atoning,
As if charged with a bitter bane.
Seem'd full of a voiceless pain;
As if set to a sad atoning,
As if charged with a bitter bane.
O my heart was sorely troubled,
And my eyes were dim with tears;
For the labours lost or doubled
By the ever-darkening years.
And my eyes were dim with tears;
For the labours lost or doubled
By the ever-darkening years.
I stood, in the misty morning,
Between the river's banks;
As it sped like a spirit, scorning
The taint of the passing ranks.
Between the river's banks;
As it sped like a spirit, scorning
The taint of the passing ranks.
There were souls in those sickly masses,
That had bruised and broken wings;
Yet in dreadful straits and passes
Had attained to God-like things.
That had bruised and broken wings;
Yet in dreadful straits and passes
Had attained to God-like things.
Lo, around me roll'd the thunder
Of a hundred hurrying feet;
And below—was the water's wonder,
With its still and steadfast beat.
Of a hundred hurrying feet;
And below—was the water's wonder,
With its still and steadfast beat.
9
But the living breasts had pulsings,
That tender were and true;
That in grief and grim convulsings
Were great to dare and do.
That tender were and true;
That in grief and grim convulsings
Were great to dare and do.
The faces, calm and cheerful,
That lightly met the day;
Were but marks of bodings fearful,
And of early youth grown grey.
That lightly met the day;
Were but marks of bodings fearful,
And of early youth grown grey.
And I measured the future chances,
For the lives that then would be;
And I robed in my radiant fancies,
The land from sea to sea.
For the lives that then would be;
And I robed in my radiant fancies,
The land from sea to sea.
But the crowds pour'd fast and faster,
And their murmurs burst my trance;
And the waves of life wax'd vaster,
As if whirl'd in a deathful dance.
And their murmurs burst my trance;
And the waves of life wax'd vaster,
As if whirl'd in a deathful dance.
On the one side throbbed the Passions
Of a mighty people's marts;
On the other slept the Fashions,
With their false and foolish arts.
Of a mighty people's marts;
On the other slept the Fashions,
With their false and foolish arts.
Should I join the toilful clamour,
And the dusty drudging throng?
Should I court the thrilling glamour,
Of the frolic dance and song?
And the dusty drudging throng?
Should I court the thrilling glamour,
Of the frolic dance and song?
I was rich, as the world counts riches,
I was young and strong and free;
And where are the earthly hitches
But give to a golden key?
I was young and strong and free;
And where are the earthly hitches
But give to a golden key?
Ah, the hands of Sirens beckon'd,
And their breath on my brow was hot;
Red lips their pleasures reckon'd,
With the pangs of a slaving lot.
And their breath on my brow was hot;
Red lips their pleasures reckon'd,
With the pangs of a slaving lot.
Their glowing arms enwound me,
And their curls they kiss'd my cheek;
They wove their meshes round me,
Till I waver'd faint and weak.
And their curls they kiss'd my cheek;
They wove their meshes round me,
Till I waver'd faint and weak.
10
They offer'd me fruits and blossoms,
With all that is fresh and sweet;
They open'd their restful bosoms,
And they cleansed my sullied feet.
With all that is fresh and sweet;
They open'd their restful bosoms,
And they cleansed my sullied feet.
And away from the bowers of Fashion
There floated a fragrant air,
As if sent by some pure compassion,
With a message fond and fair,
There floated a fragrant air,
As if sent by some pure compassion,
With a message fond and fair,
Like the waft of wondrous spices,
Or the beat of gorgeous wings,
That the seaman's sense entices,
To bright forbidden things.
Or the beat of gorgeous wings,
That the seaman's sense entices,
To bright forbidden things.
And I felt as a seaman drifting
To an Island dim and strange;
With the views and voices shifting,
To a blest and beauteous change.
To an Island dim and strange;
With the views and voices shifting,
To a blest and beauteous change.
But I look'd on the haggard faces,
As they flitted to and fro;
And I thought of the pensive places,
With their pallid wealth of woe.
As they flitted to and fro;
And I thought of the pensive places,
With their pallid wealth of woe.
I look'd on the lordly mansions,
And their chambers rich and rare;
And I match'd their proud expansions
Against hunger's gaunt despair.
And their chambers rich and rare;
And I match'd their proud expansions
Against hunger's gaunt despair.
I look'd at the palace gardens,
With their smooth and smiling mien;
And I knew how hatred hardens,
Behind the painted scene.
With their smooth and smiling mien;
And I knew how hatred hardens,
Behind the painted scene.
I look'd on the weary waters,
As they hasten'd to their goal;
As forth from its earthly quarters
Flies the disimprisoned soul.
As they hasten'd to their goal;
As forth from its earthly quarters
Flies the disimprisoned soul.
I look'd at the shrouded morrow,
And I saw no kindly sun;
But a weight of doubt and sorrow,
In the vapours dense and dun.
And I saw no kindly sun;
But a weight of doubt and sorrow,
In the vapours dense and dun.
11
I look'd in my heart for pity,
And found it warm and mild;
And I mourn'd for the Mighty City,
As a father o'er his child.
And found it warm and mild;
And I mourn'd for the Mighty City,
As a father o'er his child.
Was there never a ray of blessing
To come down on that dismal den,
Where the smoke beat black and pressing
On the faces of fever'd men?
To come down on that dismal den,
Where the smoke beat black and pressing
On the faces of fever'd men?
There the dying knew no leisure,
And the suckling fed on vice;
Yea, the dirt gave up its treasure,
And the dead man had his price.
And the suckling fed on vice;
Yea, the dirt gave up its treasure,
And the dead man had his price.
There the father slew the mother,
And the mother slew her boy;
One prey'd upon the other,
But no one dream'd of joy.
And the mother slew her boy;
One prey'd upon the other,
But no one dream'd of joy.
I stood on the Bridge of a City
That holds the world in fee;
And the river's plaintive ditty
Went wailing to the sea.
That holds the world in fee;
And the river's plaintive ditty
Went wailing to the sea.
But the stream of life was stronger,
That moved and murmur'd round;
Growing deeper still and longer,
With a wild and solemn sound.
That moved and murmur'd round;
Growing deeper still and longer,
With a wild and solemn sound.
The wind had gather'd sadness,
With a short and sharper gust;
And it howl'd like a thing in madness,
As it drove the darkening dust.
With a short and sharper gust;
And it howl'd like a thing in madness,
As it drove the darkening dust.
Upstarting like the prisoned,
Crept creatures pinch'd and wried;
And the children old and wizen'd,
To heaven for mercy cried.
Crept creatures pinch'd and wried;
And the children old and wizen'd,
To heaven for mercy cried.
There were figures faint and jaded,
With features pale and spent;
There were forms forlorn and faded,
That writhed as they turn'd and bent.
With features pale and spent;
There were forms forlorn and faded,
That writhed as they turn'd and bent.
12
There were beings scarcely mortal—
They seem'd worn so wan with woe—
That crawl'd to the grave's grim portal,
With tortured steps and slow.
They seem'd worn so wan with woe—
That crawl'd to the grave's grim portal,
With tortured steps and slow.
There were women leaf-like shaken,
In their hopeless, helpless wrack;
By foul hands that all had taken,
And had nothing given back.
In their hopeless, helpless wrack;
By foul hands that all had taken,
And had nothing given back.
There were children, six or seven,
Who low and lower fell;
With the eyes yet lit from heaven,
And the voices tuned by hell.
Who low and lower fell;
With the eyes yet lit from heaven,
And the voices tuned by hell.
There were victims of amusement,
Just the playthings of an hour;
In the blind and blank confusement,
Which bestows on ill its power.
Just the playthings of an hour;
In the blind and blank confusement,
Which bestows on ill its power.
And the daily, deadly sorrow
Of the outrage without end,
With a dark and darker morrow,
Importuned me for its friend.
Of the outrage without end,
With a dark and darker morrow,
Importuned me for its friend.
For I saw the tear-drops glisten,
On the hollow hunted face;
And the ear so strain'd to listen,
And to find a hiding-place.
On the hollow hunted face;
And the ear so strain'd to listen,
And to find a hiding-place.
Yea, I knew the common story,
That is every moment new;
Which had robbed their heaven of glory,
And their earth of summer dew.
That is every moment new;
Which had robbed their heaven of glory,
And their earth of summer dew.
And I knew the weak were driven
Into pitfalls by the strong;
And how trustful hearts were riven,
By irreparable wrong.
Into pitfalls by the strong;
And how trustful hearts were riven,
By irreparable wrong.
And I knew that scorn was fuel
To the furnace of their fate;
And man's mercy was more cruel
Than his injury or hate.
To the furnace of their fate;
And man's mercy was more cruel
Than his injury or hate.
13
Then I cast my lot with the mourners,
And I join'd the suffering band;
Till a light in the lonely corners
Shone round my helping hand.
And I join'd the suffering band;
Till a light in the lonely corners
Shone round my helping hand.
Should I dole the entrusted treasures
That a fairer fortune brought?
Should I stint my larger measures,
When in other hands was naught?
That a fairer fortune brought?
Should I stint my larger measures,
When in other hands was naught?
O there beams a benediction
On the sacrificial gift;
And the clouds of dark affliction,
At the glance of kindness lift.
On the sacrificial gift;
And the clouds of dark affliction,
At the glance of kindness lift.
Thus I strove for those fallen creatures,
As a man may strive for life;
And a change on the sullen features
Arose from the holy strife.
As a man may strive for life;
And a change on the sullen features
Arose from the holy strife.
On the brows there came a glory,
In the eyes there grew a gleam;
Like the spell of a winter story,
Like the charm of a summer-dream.
In the eyes there grew a gleam;
Like the spell of a winter story,
Like the charm of a summer-dream.
And the lips long silent kindled
With the smile of conscious might;
And the cares and troubles dwindled,
In a purpose brave and bright.
With the smile of conscious might;
And the cares and troubles dwindled,
In a purpose brave and bright.
Lo, the widow'd mothers bless'd me,
And the orphans pluck'd me flowers;
While the songs of love caress'd me,
Through the soft melodious hours.
And the orphans pluck'd me flowers;
While the songs of love caress'd me,
Through the soft melodious hours.
And the fount of faith was present,
As waters sweet and shy,
In the pastures pure and pleasant,
Where the shadows ever lie.
As waters sweet and shy,
In the pastures pure and pleasant,
Where the shadows ever lie.
And the stream of deeds of kindness
Went sparkling far and wide;
And the blighted spots of blindness,
They bloom'd in the soothing tide.
Went sparkling far and wide;
And the blighted spots of blindness,
They bloom'd in the soothing tide.
14
I beheld the joy of labour,
And I felt the glow of rest;
As each man help'd his neighbour,
And no man grudged his best.
And I felt the glow of rest;
As each man help'd his neighbour,
And no man grudged his best.
I stood in the morning's splendour,
Between the river's banks;
And a tale that was glad and tender
I read in the passing ranks,
Between the river's banks;
And a tale that was glad and tender
I read in the passing ranks,
The wind had a happy burden,
As it piped in the summer sun;
Like a soul that has gain'd its guerdon,
When the time of toil is run.
As it piped in the summer sun;
Like a soul that has gain'd its guerdon,
When the time of toil is run.
I stood on the Bridge of a City
That holds the world in fee;
And the river's laughing ditty
Went singing to the sea.
That holds the world in fee;
And the river's laughing ditty
Went singing to the sea.
| Women must weep | |