University of Virginia Library

A sea-like river rolled along a plain
On deep still current, that unto the eye
Seemed half to sleep, yet ever silently
Bore onwards to a tideless, shoreless main,
With flow that rested not; dark branches flung
Their solemn shadows o'er that stream, and hung
Crowning its banks with stillness, for the time
Was Summer in its full and leafy prime,
Yet Summer in its silence, not its joy:
The storm's wild armaments across the sky
Had swept, and still clung darkly, threat'ningly
Round the dim, eastern mountains, whence of old
That river flowed; each high rock-girdled hold
Gave back low thunders, and a vaporous shroud
Enwreathed their purple summits in its fold:
There had been war in Heaven! the crash sublime
Of elemental natures, from whose strife,
Kindred and yet conflicting, leaps to life,
The fiery dweller in the darken'd cloud;
There had been fightings upon Earth! afar
Arose, where now the tide of battle spent
More slowly ebbed, confused, the noise of war;
A clang, a shriek, that mingled with the cry
Of Captains in their shouting; agony
And exultation, hoarsely, sternly blent.

Then saw I One, an armèd man, that stood
Alone by that swift stream, and wearily
Unclasped his helm and gazed upon the flood,
And smote his hands together with a cry;
Then mark'd I on his corslet stains of blood
That welled from some deep wound; in agony
He shook and trembled through his mail, while slow
With difficult breath he murmured “where be they?
The medicínal herbs that ever grow
By these dark waters? Lo! from Rise of Day
On the red plain, the battle-plain of life,
A fervent-hearted Champion; for the right
My arm hath striven—Yea! within the fight
It hath been mine to triumph! Yet I bleed”—
And from his cheek and brow I saw the light
Of kindling exultation fade and die,
Like the cold sudden gleams that o'er the sky
Of winter flicker, and his lip grew pale
Ere yet the proud word passed. “My hurts are deep,
The iron is within my soul, the dart
Hath cloven with its poison through my mail;
How may I reach the Sunset isles that lie
Far Westward, where the murmurs of the Sea
Rise ever gently, and the gale's low sigh
Bears, on the whisper of tranquillity,
Health for the wounded, for the weary, rest?”
And that dark river through its waves did seem
To send one answer, “trust thyself to me,
I bear thee thither, swiftly, silently:”
And he looked wearily unto the sky,
Yet seemed to read no certain meaning there;
Then with raised hands, and lips that moved in prayer,
He flung himself all arm'd upon the stream:
And that dark flood rolled onwards, and its wave,
Its swift and hurrying wave methought was dyed
With crimson, as its broad unslumbering tide
Swept all its tributary wealth adown
To its far bourne, while ever soft and low
Those waters chode and murmured in their flow;
As, like fond lips that in their ministering
Fasten on some deep wound, they drew the sting
Of the fierce arrow from that warrior's side,
And with cold, kindly touch that dull'd the pain
It might not heal, they laved his stricken breast,
While, floating round him with a chiming strain,
A measured chant, a nurse's lullaby
That soothes, with wordless song a child to rest,
They bore him onwards swiftly, tenderly;
Till ere upon the wave the evening sky
Gleamed red, or ere he marked the solemn glow
Of Sunset rest upon the isles that lie
Far West, or heard the Main's unchanging flow
Break on the stillness of the twilight hour,
I saw the strong man in the might, the power
Of strength renewed, arise, and once again
With calm and steadfast bearing seek the plain
A fervent Champion.