 | Poems |  |
18
TRUTH.
“Be true, whatever you are, be true.”
Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter.
Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter.
I sat while the world was sleeping, with my dog upon my knee,
And I looked at the golden stars through the boughs of the pear-tree,
And as with the soul of a poet I drank the rapture in,
They seemed to flash down on me the memory of my sin:
And I looked at the golden stars through the boughs of the pear-tree,
And as with the soul of a poet I drank the rapture in,
They seemed to flash down on me the memory of my sin:
Of evil in secret places, though I brake not any law;
Yet I've done what you, my darling, would almost hate me for:
What—I may never tell you, you are too pure to know,
Yet I cannot bear that the guileless should look on the guilty so.
Yet I've done what you, my darling, would almost hate me for:
19
Yet I cannot bear that the guileless should look on the guilty so.
Thy soul is still in its Eden, the apples hang on the tree,
The serpent has spoken to others, he never was heard by thee;
I have seen the face of the angel, I have felt the breath of the sword,
But in thee as a dream I remember the garden of the Lord.
The serpent has spoken to others, he never was heard by thee;
I have seen the face of the angel, I have felt the breath of the sword,
But in thee as a dream I remember the garden of the Lord.
There shall come a day, my darling, how I can scarce divine,
When the viewless veil shall be lifted that parts my soul and thine;
Then thou shalt know my meanness, my sorrow that this should be,
And I shall be glad that no longer I can hide the truth from thee.
When the viewless veil shall be lifted that parts my soul and thine;
Then thou shalt know my meanness, my sorrow that this should be,
And I shall be glad that no longer I can hide the truth from thee.
20
It will not be yet, my darling, not on this dreary shore,
Where the twilight sits for ever, and the shadows still move o'er;
But in that palpable future where the form is taken away,
And the spirit is free to wander in the bright light of the day.
Where the twilight sits for ever, and the shadows still move o'er;
But in that palpable future where the form is taken away,
And the spirit is free to wander in the bright light of the day.
Ye, whom my soul calls brothers, who sware to fight with me,
In the front of the world's battle 'gainst the foul stagnant sea
Of comfort at happiness mocking, of faith that is really sleep,
And the many bewildering fancies that make the angels weep:
In the front of the world's battle 'gainst the foul stagnant sea
Of comfort at happiness mocking, of faith that is really sleep,
And the many bewildering fancies that make the angels weep:
Ye who would make that goodness and truth should be one, not two,
So that the wise to think should be also the swift to do;
Ye who would tear the trappings from the poor shrine of pelf,
And the glory of loving another because of the love of self.
So that the wise to think should be also the swift to do;
21
And the glory of loving another because of the love of self.
One of the band of gleaners with you in the boundless plain,
Where mighty reapers have laboured and sheaved up golden grain,
Who wandered with you in the moonlight, as we poured in each other's ear
The deeds of the noble in story and the burning words of the seer.
Where mighty reapers have laboured and sheaved up golden grain,
Who wandered with you in the moonlight, as we poured in each other's ear
The deeds of the noble in story and the burning words of the seer.
All the while he was guilty; this is all I can tell,
Making sorrow for others, making himself a hell:
All the while he had listened unto the voice of the brute,
But the voice of the soul within him, except to the world, was mute.
Making sorrow for others, making himself a hell:
All the while he had listened unto the voice of the brute,
But the voice of the soul within him, except to the world, was mute.
22
I will not tell how I wakened to curse myself and see
That that which was foul in others must needs be foul in me:
All I say—I was guilty; and now my heart is light,
And I may drink in the rapture that flows from the heavens to-night.
That that which was foul in others must needs be foul in me:
All I say—I was guilty; and now my heart is light,
And I may drink in the rapture that flows from the heavens to-night.
| Poems | |