 | Ballads and Verses of the Spiritual Life |  |
71
Earth and Heaven
[“The mother of St. Simeon Stylites, hearing of his fame, came to
see him, but was not allowed to enter the enclosure round the pillar.
But when Simeon heard his mother's voice, he said to her, ‘Bear up,
my mother, a little while, and we shall see each other, if God will.’
But she began to weep and to rebuke him, saying, ‘Son, why hast
thou done this? In return for the body I bore thee, thou hast filled
me with grief. For the milk with which I nourished thee, thou hast
given me tears. For the kiss with which I kissed thee, thou hast
given me an aching heart. . . .’ Simeon, on his pillar, was deeply
agitated, and covering his face with his hands, he wept bitterly and
cried to her, ‘O lady mother, be still a little while, and we shall see
each other in eternal rest.’ The poor mother, with harrowed heart,
hung about the place for three days, crying to her son, and wrung
with grief to see his terrible penance, . . . and at the end of those
three days she fell asleep. . . . And he, weeping, said, ‘The Lord
receive thee in joy, mother,’ etc.”—Lives of the Saints. S. Baring-Gould.]
Here Time is strange, and keeps no even speed
As once, but checked or sped by dreams moves on:
Whether it was or was not so, indeed,
I hardly know; but some four days agone
I thought she came, came near the enclosèd space
Which men have walled about my pillar's base.
As once, but checked or sped by dreams moves on:
Whether it was or was not so, indeed,
I hardly know; but some four days agone
I thought she came, came near the enclosèd space
Which men have walled about my pillar's base.
72
(O mother! In her eyes was all the woe
That has been gathering there these many years,
Since that first day, a thousand lives ago,
When she watched for me, racked with doubts and fears:
And I was lying at the convent gate
Awaiting the unfolding of my fate.)
That has been gathering there these many years,
Since that first day, a thousand lives ago,
When she watched for me, racked with doubts and fears:
And I was lying at the convent gate
Awaiting the unfolding of my fate.)
And there she stood. They would not let her in.
She reached her hands out to me, and she cried,
And beat her breast and moaned. (Oh me! my sin!
This rebel soul not yet is sanctified!
Pardon, O God, that this weak heart did ache
With earthly sorrow for that woman's sake!)
She reached her hands out to me, and she cried,
And beat her breast and moaned. (Oh me! my sin!
This rebel soul not yet is sanctified!
Pardon, O God, that this weak heart did ache
With earthly sorrow for that woman's sake!)
And then I heard her voice: “My son, my son,
Why wilt thou shame God's body in this wise?
What is this sacrilege that thou hast done?
How wilt thou meet the Blessed Mother's eyes,
And hear her ask thee what thou gavest me
For that fair body which I bore for thee?”
Why wilt thou shame God's body in this wise?
What is this sacrilege that thou hast done?
How wilt thou meet the Blessed Mother's eyes,
And hear her ask thee what thou gavest me
For that fair body which I bore for thee?”
Then cried I—God forgive, if I did ill—
“Bear up, my mother, yet a little while,
And we shall see each other, if God will.
Pray, pray still, ever pray.” And then (O vile!
To grieve for earthly things) I, also, wept,
As through my heart chill winds of memory crept.
“Bear up, my mother, yet a little while,
And we shall see each other, if God will.
Pray, pray still, ever pray.” And then (O vile!
To grieve for earthly things) I, also, wept,
As through my heart chill winds of memory crept.
And then I thought—and yet it may have been
Only a craft of Satan, tempting me—
I thought she wrung her hands, and let be seen
The mother's breast that once had nourished me,
And wept again, and spake; and every word
Pierced to the fleshly heart of me who heard.
Only a craft of Satan, tempting me—
I thought she wrung her hands, and let be seen
The mother's breast that once had nourished me,
73
Pierced to the fleshly heart of me who heard.
“Oh, son, I pray no more! For once I prayed
A boon of God for sweetening of my days,
A little baby that should soft be laid
Upon my bosom—to His endless praise.
At last God heard my cry—thee did I bear,
The inexorable answer to my prayer!
A boon of God for sweetening of my days,
A little baby that should soft be laid
Upon my bosom—to His endless praise.
At last God heard my cry—thee did I bear,
The inexorable answer to my prayer!
“O little baby hands I used to kiss,
Cold, hard, and wasted—reached not out to me.
Mother of Christ, judge thou how hard it is
To bear such wounds as in his feet I see—
O little pink dear feet I used to hold,
Kissed now but by fierce sun and night winds cold!
Cold, hard, and wasted—reached not out to me.
Mother of Christ, judge thou how hard it is
To bear such wounds as in his feet I see—
O little pink dear feet I used to hold,
Kissed now but by fierce sun and night winds cold!
“Ah! when I hushed thee on my happy breast
And sang thee whispered lullabies, and strove
To see the future—work, and help, and rest,
And good deeds done of thee, child of my love—
Why did no angel blast such sweet vain schemes,
And shed truth's withering light upon my dreams?
And sang thee whispered lullabies, and strove
To see the future—work, and help, and rest,
And good deeds done of thee, child of my love—
Why did no angel blast such sweet vain schemes,
And shed truth's withering light upon my dreams?
“Thou wert God's answer to my prayer. And thou,
Who bade thee thus to mar God's gift and mine,
Thy body? Not the Lord of heaven, I trow,
Who wore on earth a body like to thine.
He had a mother, too; yet day by day
Thou darest to raise thy hands to Him and pray!”
Who bade thee thus to mar God's gift and mine,
Thy body? Not the Lord of heaven, I trow,
Who wore on earth a body like to thine.
He had a mother, too; yet day by day
Thou darest to raise thy hands to Him and pray!”
74
Then I spoke—I, not yet as saintly-still
As penance should have made me, beat my breast:
“Patience, O lady mother! If God will,
We two shall meet in an eternal rest!”
“But, oh,” she cried, “the human life divine
Was that in which God gave thee to be mine!
As penance should have made me, beat my breast:
“Patience, O lady mother! If God will,
We two shall meet in an eternal rest!”
“But, oh,” she cried, “the human life divine
Was that in which God gave thee to be mine!
“Not for another life than this I bore
Travail and agony of thy birth morn,
The joy unspeakable that pain no more
Could touch or mar, when my man-child was born.
For this life wert thou born—and, O my son,
With life, God's gift, what good thing hast thou done?
Travail and agony of thy birth morn,
The joy unspeakable that pain no more
Could touch or mar, when my man-child was born.
For this life wert thou born—and, O my son,
With life, God's gift, what good thing hast thou done?
“Thou hast brought souls to God? Poor souls that find,
No refuge save the God thou dreamest of!
A God who loves to see sad eyes wept blind,
Flesh wounded, and dead hearts cast out of love!
Better the heathen's life of soulless bliss
Than faith in such a Devil-God as this!
No refuge save the God thou dreamest of!
A God who loves to see sad eyes wept blind,
Flesh wounded, and dead hearts cast out of love!
Better the heathen's life of soulless bliss
Than faith in such a Devil-God as this!
“What was it pricked thee on to this thy sin?
What but desire that men should kneel and say,
‘See—the great saint—the holy man, wherein
All fleshly lusts that sting our flesh to-day
Are dead.’ Ay! all but pride, that finds no ways
Too sharp to tread, to meet a sick world's praise.
What but desire that men should kneel and say,
‘See—the great saint—the holy man, wherein
All fleshly lusts that sting our flesh to-day
Are dead.’ Ay! all but pride, that finds no ways
Too sharp to tread, to meet a sick world's praise.
“And now I know thou art too proud to heed
My voice—too high for me to reach thee there,
Too small a thing it is, my heart's great need,
That thou, my body's fruit, shouldst know or care;
Thou, thou wouldst save thy soul and heaven win
By slighting earth, that God has set thee in!
My voice—too high for me to reach thee there,
Too small a thing it is, my heart's great need,
That thou, my body's fruit, shouldst know or care;
75
By slighting earth, that God has set thee in!
“Earth was thy home, on earth thy duties lay;
And heaven lives on earth, in duties done.
O son, Christ weeps to see thee turned away
From that straight simple way He set thee on.
Thy soul? Thy soul! The devil would not crave
That stunted, crippled soul thou seekst to save!”
And heaven lives on earth, in duties done.
O son, Christ weeps to see thee turned away
From that straight simple way He set thee on.
Thy soul? Thy soul! The devil would not crave
That stunted, crippled soul thou seekst to save!”
She ceased. Her body, like a drooping flower,
Bowed towards earth, and she was borne away;
But I—have mercy, God—for one mad hour
I might not, would not, could not, dared not pray;
For all her words shrieked in my ears again,
And all my penances and prayers looked vain.
Bowed towards earth, and she was borne away;
But I—have mercy, God—for one mad hour
I might not, would not, could not, dared not pray;
For all her words shrieked in my ears again,
And all my penances and prayers looked vain.
The royal sun in robes of gold had passed
Below the rocks and palm-trees in the west,
The long hard shadow that my pillar cast
Grew dim and vague. The sense of coming rest
Fell on all happy living things, and I
Got strength to pray again, and night went by.
Below the rocks and palm-trees in the west,
The long hard shadow that my pillar cast
Grew dim and vague. The sense of coming rest
Fell on all happy living things, and I
Got strength to pray again, and night went by.
With the new sun she came once more. Her cry,
Strong with a night of prayer, I would not hear.
I turned my eyes up to the blazing sky,
Wrestling in prayer and sealing up mine ear.
Yet there she stood all day and gazed on me;
For my heart knew it though I would not see.
Strong with a night of prayer, I would not hear.
I turned my eyes up to the blazing sky,
Wrestling in prayer and sealing up mine ear.
Yet there she stood all day and gazed on me;
For my heart knew it though I would not see.
76
Another night of prayer, another day
Of words I would not hear, though my heart heard.
And then that evening, when I heard men say
“She is dead!”—O God, forgive my first mad word—
“God, be my soul damned in hell's fiercest pain,
But give my mother back to me again!”
Of words I would not hear, though my heart heard.
And then that evening, when I heard men say
“She is dead!”—O God, forgive my first mad word—
“God, be my soul damned in hell's fiercest pain,
But give my mother back to me again!”
But all the people crowded round. I knew
They waited for the holy man to speak.
What could I say to them? what could I do
To hide from them how wildly flesh was weak?
I spoke—and what I said I know no more—
'Twas not the thoughts with which my heart was sore!
They waited for the holy man to speak.
What could I say to them? what could I do
To hide from them how wildly flesh was weak?
I spoke—and what I said I know no more—
'Twas not the thoughts with which my heart was sore!
I think I said what other men would say
I should have said—gave thanks to God that she
From this vile world had so been caught away
Into the glory where I hoped to be.
And this I said the anguish to conceal
I felt—but felt that it was sin to feel.
I should have said—gave thanks to God that she
From this vile world had so been caught away
Into the glory where I hoped to be.
And this I said the anguish to conceal
I felt—but felt that it was sin to feel.
But when the night had come, the people gone,
When 'twixt the silent earth and silent sky
I on my pillar was alone—alone
As I must be till life's last night pass by—
The world looked black, the sky was cloudy gray,
And even my pillar seemed to fade away.
When 'twixt the silent earth and silent sky
I on my pillar was alone—alone
As I must be till life's last night pass by—
The world looked black, the sky was cloudy gray,
And even my pillar seemed to fade away.
And only I—'twixt heaven and earth—was there;
For heaven I could not find, and earth was lost.
I seemed to drift through chill and misty air,
In vague cloud-depths by storm-winds driven and tossed,
Still floating on—long ages did it seem—
I, more a shadow than man's lightest dream—
For heaven I could not find, and earth was lost.
I seemed to drift through chill and misty air,
In vague cloud-depths by storm-winds driven and tossed,
77
I, more a shadow than man's lightest dream—
And still alone. At last—the darkness riven—
A light—a presence! and my whole soul cried:
“I am lost, I am lost! O God, where is Thy heaven
For which I gave up love and all beside?
How shall I find the garden of the blest
Where Christ and all His angels feast and rest?”
A light—a presence! and my whole soul cried:
“I am lost, I am lost! O God, where is Thy heaven
For which I gave up love and all beside?
How shall I find the garden of the blest
Where Christ and all His angels feast and rest?”
And then I heard a voice that filled the skies,
Most terrible, most sweet, and answered me:
“Heaven was on earth, the earth thou didst despise,
And now for ever it is lost to thee;
And on the earth Christ is, and on the earth
The love thou hast accounted nothing worth.
Most terrible, most sweet, and answered me:
“Heaven was on earth, the earth thou didst despise,
And now for ever it is lost to thee;
And on the earth Christ is, and on the earth
The love thou hast accounted nothing worth.
“None for himself a heaven can win or make,
Since whoso seeks his life his life shall lose.
He who will labour for a sad world's sake,
And free pure life revile not nor refuse,
He is Christ's man; he hath the better part;
The angels dwell for ever in his heart.
Since whoso seeks his life his life shall lose.
He who will labour for a sad world's sake,
And free pure life revile not nor refuse,
He is Christ's man; he hath the better part;
The angels dwell for ever in his heart.
“Where is a heaven but on the earth—for man?
What other life for man is there but one?
Heaven, and the way to heaven lie in that span,
Eternal are the done and the undone.
Thine were the penance, prayer, and sun and frost,
Thine the earth wasted, and the heaven lost!”
What other life for man is there but one?
Heaven, and the way to heaven lie in that span,
Eternal are the done and the undone.
Thine were the penance, prayer, and sun and frost,
Thine the earth wasted, and the heaven lost!”
78
The vision faded, and I woke to earth;
The night had fled away, the sky was fair
With lovely lights to greet the new day's birth;
They shone upon my pillar, high in air,
And on my body, maimed and seared, and thin
With the hard penance I have trusted in.
The night had fled away, the sky was fair
With lovely lights to greet the new day's birth;
They shone upon my pillar, high in air,
And on my body, maimed and seared, and thin
With the hard penance I have trusted in.
It is too late—too late! If this be true,
And all my life be wrong, at least I know
I did but what I thought God bade me do,
And went the way I thought he bade me go!
'Tis Satan tempts me with these dreams and fears.
'Twas he who tempted through my mother's tears.
And all my life be wrong, at least I know
I did but what I thought God bade me do,
And went the way I thought he bade me go!
'Tis Satan tempts me with these dreams and fears.
'Twas he who tempted through my mother's tears.
Oh, mother, if it had been otherwise!
It could not be—life then had been too sweet!
How can smooth pathways lead to Paradise,
Or heaven be on earth, time being so fleet?
Back, Satan—I have fought and won the fight.
Life was so hard, it could not but be right!
It could not be—life then had been too sweet!
How can smooth pathways lead to Paradise,
Or heaven be on earth, time being so fleet?
Back, Satan—I have fought and won the fight.
Life was so hard, it could not but be right!
| Ballads and Verses of the Spiritual Life | |