 | Lazarus And other Poems |  |
The shadows fall: before mine eyes there floats
The thick, black darkness. Ere my voice is hushed,
I fain would see you gather round my tent,
And speak my parting counsels. Ye, my sons,
The glory of the spring-tide of my years,
Warriors of God, whom I have watched in youth
Outrun the wild goat to the topmost crag,
Plunge into Jordan when the harvest flood
O'erflows its banks, and, battling with the stream,
Rise up victorious on the further shore,
Whose faces, scarred and seamed in many a fight,
Showed noblest hearts, all ignorant of fear;
And ye, who not by bonds of natural birth,
But sworn obedience, one in life and heart,
Have chosen me your father, whom I own
As sons of Rechab; come ye, one and all,
Men, women, children, hear the words of one
Who speaks as God has taught him. Through the years
Those words shall dwell with you for weal or woe,
Blessing or cursing. On your heads the vow
Shall rest for ever. Not for you the life
Of sloth and ease within the city's gates,
Where idol-feasts are held, and incense smokes
To Baalim and Ashtaroth; where man
Loses his manhood, and the scoffers sit
Perverting judgment, selfish, soft, impure:
Not yours the task of those that sow and reap,
Or plant the olive and the vine. Ye dwell,
Free as, of old, your fathers roamed the lands,
When Joshua led their hosts, and, Canaan won,
Gave them their lot in Israel. Still ye wend
From hill to hill, with camels and with sheep,
Asses and oxen, and your tents are seen
Outspread upon the pleasant Gilead land,
Blackened, yet comely. And the Nazarite's oath
Is still upon you. Not for you the cup
That sparkles with the crimson blood of grapes:
The wine that glads the heart of man and God
Ye may not taste. The wild, entrancing thrill
That stirs the veins with pulse of warm desire,
And swells the voice of song, and bids the feet
Move to blithe music in exulting dance,—
Leave this to lower natures. Ye have seen
The poison at its work, have watched the soul
Lose calmness, strength, and wisdom, rising high
To sink down low, all brutish, in the abyss
Where man forgets his God. But ye, the true,
The faithful, bound, as servants of the Lord,
With heart and strength to serve Him, stand ye fast,
Nor cloud your spirits with the fleshly taint,
Nor join in revel at the idol-feasts,
Nor turn your backs in craven fear of death.
The thick, black darkness. Ere my voice is hushed,
I fain would see you gather round my tent,
And speak my parting counsels. Ye, my sons,
The glory of the spring-tide of my years,
Warriors of God, whom I have watched in youth
Outrun the wild goat to the topmost crag,
Plunge into Jordan when the harvest flood
O'erflows its banks, and, battling with the stream,
Rise up victorious on the further shore,
Whose faces, scarred and seamed in many a fight,
Showed noblest hearts, all ignorant of fear;
And ye, who not by bonds of natural birth,
But sworn obedience, one in life and heart,
98
As sons of Rechab; come ye, one and all,
Men, women, children, hear the words of one
Who speaks as God has taught him. Through the years
Those words shall dwell with you for weal or woe,
Blessing or cursing. On your heads the vow
Shall rest for ever. Not for you the life
Of sloth and ease within the city's gates,
Where idol-feasts are held, and incense smokes
To Baalim and Ashtaroth; where man
Loses his manhood, and the scoffers sit
Perverting judgment, selfish, soft, impure:
Not yours the task of those that sow and reap,
Or plant the olive and the vine. Ye dwell,
Free as, of old, your fathers roamed the lands,
When Joshua led their hosts, and, Canaan won,
Gave them their lot in Israel. Still ye wend
From hill to hill, with camels and with sheep,
Asses and oxen, and your tents are seen
Outspread upon the pleasant Gilead land,
Blackened, yet comely. And the Nazarite's oath
Is still upon you. Not for you the cup
That sparkles with the crimson blood of grapes:
The wine that glads the heart of man and God
Ye may not taste. The wild, entrancing thrill
That stirs the veins with pulse of warm desire,
And swells the voice of song, and bids the feet
99
Leave this to lower natures. Ye have seen
The poison at its work, have watched the soul
Lose calmness, strength, and wisdom, rising high
To sink down low, all brutish, in the abyss
Where man forgets his God. But ye, the true,
The faithful, bound, as servants of the Lord,
With heart and strength to serve Him, stand ye fast,
Nor cloud your spirits with the fleshly taint,
Nor join in revel at the idol-feasts,
Nor turn your backs in craven fear of death.
| Lazarus And other Poems | |