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FIVE SERMONS FROM ONE TEXT:
EVE—THE INDIAN WIDOW—VESTA'S PRIEST—JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER—IPHIGENIA AT AULIS
EVE
Flung out of Eden, and my child is Cain.
Woe, woe is me!
I have pluck'd knowledge, and I find it pain.
Love hath made me accurst: since all the gain
Of self is misery.
Woe, woe is me!
I have pluck'd knowledge, and I find it pain.
Love hath made me accurst: since all the gain
Of self is misery.
O fierce desire that would not let me rest!
O lovely snake—
Thou subtilest beast, that with thy low behest
Lured me from innocence!—From good to best
My way I take.
O lovely snake—
Thou subtilest beast, that with thy low behest
Lured me from innocence!—From good to best
My way I take.
For innocence is not the best, though good.
Thy gates are shut,
Sweet Eden!—I return not if I could.
Better, O Man! hard labour and scant food
In this poor hut.
Thy gates are shut,
Sweet Eden!—I return not if I could.
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In this poor hut.
From innocence through sorrow and much wrong
Our pathway lies.
Only by suffering doth the soul grow strong.
Leave we the lower creatures, the vile throng
Of sense. Arise!
Our pathway lies.
Only by suffering doth the soul grow strong.
Leave we the lower creatures, the vile throng
Of sense. Arise!
Forth to the desert! We will plant out there
A garden brave.
This doom of death, this darkness of despair,
Is the shadow of higher Love. And look thou where
He bursts the grave.
A garden brave.
This doom of death, this darkness of despair,
Is the shadow of higher Love. And look thou where
He bursts the grave.
THE INDIAN WIDOW
Through the purifying fire—
Upheap the sandal-wood, and thereupon
Throw cinnamon,
Rich-scented gums, sweet frankincense, and myrrh;
And pour the holy oil
Over the forest spoil
Till the flame enrobeth her!—
‘I aspire!’
Upheap the sandal-wood, and thereupon
Throw cinnamon,
Rich-scented gums, sweet frankincense, and myrrh;
And pour the holy oil
Over the forest spoil
Till the flame enrobeth her!—
‘I aspire!’
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‘Through the purifying fire—
‘With the dead Belovéd lying at my feet,
‘And music sweet
‘Climbing the golden smoke toward the sky;
‘The white flowers in my wreath
‘Crowning me Bride of Death.
‘Let the earth pass cloudily!
‘I aspire!’
‘With the dead Belovéd lying at my feet,
‘And music sweet
‘Climbing the golden smoke toward the sky;
‘The white flowers in my wreath
‘Crowning me Bride of Death.
‘Let the earth pass cloudily!
‘I aspire!’
Through the purifying fire—
True Spirit! free thyself from robes of sense;
Soul! grow intense;
Devotion! climb unto Love's highest throne.
Behold, O seeking eyes!
The pile of sacrifice,
And the flame for bridal zone.—
‘I aspire!’
True Spirit! free thyself from robes of sense;
Soul! grow intense;
Devotion! climb unto Love's highest throne.
Behold, O seeking eyes!
The pile of sacrifice,
And the flame for bridal zone.—
‘I aspire!’
VESTA'S PRIEST
O white-robed Vesta! to maintain thy flame I swear.
Bow, proud patrician! From thy snowy hair,
O Wisdom! take the crown.
Kneel humbly down
Ye warriors! and ye, reverend priests! bend low
Before the Sacred Virgins as they go
Along the public street:
Blessing the way with feet
That tread down shame.
Bow, proud patrician! From thy snowy hair,
O Wisdom! take the crown.
Kneel humbly down
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Before the Sacred Virgins as they go
Along the public street:
Blessing the way with feet
That tread down shame.
O clear-eyed Vesta! O neglected flame!—
O Death!—
Close veil her weakness! lead her hence beneath
The all-concealing earth!
Why speak of worth,
Of innocence, of natural loving need?
We hear in vain, we may but heed
The worship and the oath.
Unfaithful to her troth,
We bury Shame.
O Death!—
Close veil her weakness! lead her hence beneath
The all-concealing earth!
Why speak of worth,
Of innocence, of natural loving need?
We hear in vain, we may but heed
The worship and the oath.
Unfaithful to her troth,
We bury Shame.
Divinest Vesta! Mother of the Powers!
Inspire
My heart, and fill me with thy purest fire.
Choose for thy lamp this soul,
To show the goal
Of virtue, only in thy temple gain'd
By lives ungrieved, unstain'd.
Keep me above the earth!
Kindle within me worth
For all the hours!
Inspire
My heart, and fill me with thy purest fire.
Choose for thy lamp this soul,
To show the goal
Of virtue, only in thy temple gain'd
By lives ungrieved, unstain'd.
Keep me above the earth!
Kindle within me worth
For all the hours!
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JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER
Give me a little while to mourn my youth!—
This lightning is too swift. Let me behold—
One instant—if thy vow have so much ruth—
Hope's violet tints melt in the ruddy gold.
This lightning is too swift. Let me behold—
One instant—if thy vow have so much ruth—
Hope's violet tints melt in the ruddy gold.
Let me chain back the flood-gates of my tears,
Harden these quivering lips, hot cheeks make pale;
Let me gaze firmly up the marbled years
Even to the utmost bleakness I must scale.
Harden these quivering lips, hot cheeks make pale;
Let me gaze firmly up the marbled years
Even to the utmost bleakness I must scale.
It was a wild vow, O my Father!—wild
As all vows are: rash Will outreaching Right.
Nevertheless I am thine own true child.
Slay me, since good that seemeth in thy sight.
As all vows are: rash Will outreaching Right.
Nevertheless I am thine own true child.
Slay me, since good that seemeth in thy sight.
Kill me for very righteousness, though none
May know the simple meaning of my doom.
So thou and thy least word may be at one,
Shadow thy victor helm with this dead bloom.
May know the simple meaning of my doom.
So thou and thy least word may be at one,
Shadow thy victor helm with this dead bloom.
O beautiful lightning!—all life's rainbow hues
Tone thy brief splendour: thy far purples, Love!
Joy's roseate glow. Now, Father! smite: I choose
The clear white sword-gleam. Smite as I approve.
Tone thy brief splendour: thy far purples, Love!
Joy's roseate glow. Now, Father! smite: I choose
The clear white sword-gleam. Smite as I approve.
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IPHIGENIA AT AULIS
I am Achilles. Thou wast hither brought
To be my wife, not for a sacrifice.
Greece and her kings may stand aside as nought
To what Thou art in my expectant eyes.
To be my wife, not for a sacrifice.
Greece and her kings may stand aside as nought
To what Thou art in my expectant eyes.
Or kings or gods. I too am heaven-born.
I trample on their auguries and needs.
Where the foreboding dares to front my scorn
Or break the promise from my heart proceeds?
I trample on their auguries and needs.
Where the foreboding dares to front my scorn
Or break the promise from my heart proceeds?
But thou, Belovéd! smilést down my wrath
So able to protect thee. Who should harm
Achilles' Bride?—Thou pointest to the path
Of sacrifice, yet leaning on my arm.
So able to protect thee. Who should harm
Achilles' Bride?—Thou pointest to the path
Of sacrifice, yet leaning on my arm.
There is no need of words; from me reply
As little requisite: Thy lightest hand
Guideth me, as the helm the ship; Thine eye
Doth more than all the Atridæ could command.
As little requisite: Thy lightest hand
Guideth me, as the helm the ship; Thine eye
Doth more than all the Atridæ could command.
Thou givést life and love for Greece and Right:
I will stand by thee lest thou shouldst be weak—
Not weak of soul.—I will but hold in sight
Thy marvelous beauty.—Here is She you seek.
I will stand by thee lest thou shouldst be weak—
Not weak of soul.—I will but hold in sight
Thy marvelous beauty.—Here is She you seek.
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