In that act where my soul was thy servant, thy word was my word,— Still be with me, who then at the summit of human endeavor And scaling the highest, man's thought could, gazed hopeless as ever On the new stretch of heaven above me -till, mighty to save, Just one lift of thy hand cleared that distance-God's throne from man's grave! Let me tell out my tale to its ending-my voice to my heart Which can scare dare believe in what marvels last night I took part, As this morning I gather the fragments, alone with my sheep, And still fear lest the terrible glory evanish like sleep! For I wake in the gray dewy covert, while Hebron upheaves The dawn struggling with night on his shoulder, and Kidron retrieves Slow the damage of yesterday's sunshine. XV I say then, my song While I sang thus, assuring the monarch, and ever more strong Made a proffer of good to console himhe slowly resumed His old motions and habitudes ingly. The right hand replumed His black locks to their wonted composure, adjusted the swathes Of his turban, and see-the huge sweat that his countenance bathes. He wipes off with the robe; and he girds now his loins as of yore, And feels slow for the armlets of price, with the clasp set before. He is Saul, ye remember in glory,--ere error had bent The broad brow from the daily communion and still, though much spent Be the life and the bearing that front you, the same, God did choose, To receive what a man may waste, desecrate, never quite lose. So sank he along by the tent-prop till, stayed by the pile Of his armor and war-cloak and garments, he leaned there awhile, And sat out my singing,-one arm round the tent-prop, to raise His bent head, and the other hung slack -till I touched on the praise I foresaw from all men in all time, to the man patient there; And thus ended, the harp falling forward. Then first I was 'ware That he sat, as I say, with my head just above his vast knees Which were thrust out on each side around me, like oak roots which please To encircle a lamb when it slumbers. I looked up to know If the best I could do had brought solace ; he spoke not, but slow Lifted up the hand slack at his side, till he laid it with care Soft and grave, but in mild settled will, on my brow: through my hair The large fingers were pushed, and he bent back my head, with kind powerAll my face back, intent to peruse it, as men do a flower. Thus held he me there with his great eyes that scrutinized mine- And oh, all my heart how it loved him! but where was the sign? I yearned-" Could I help thee, my father, inventing a bliss, I would add, to that life of the past, both the future and this; I would give thee new life altogether, as good, ages hence, As this moment,--had love but the warrant, love's heart to dispense!" In the kind I imagined, full-fronts me, In the star, in the stone, in the flesh, in And thus looking within and around me, (With that stoop of the soul which in The submission of man's nothing-perfect As by each new obeisance in spirit, I climb to his feet. Yet with all this abounding experience, this deity known, I shall dare to discover some province, some gift of my own. There's a faculty pleasant to exercise, hard to hoodwink, I am fain to keep still in abeyance, (I laugh as I think) Lest, insisting to claim and parade in it, wot ye, I worst E'en the Giver in one gift.-Behold, I could love if I durst! But I sink the pretension as fearing a God's own speed in the one way of love: -What, my soul? see thus far and Nine-and-ninety flew ope at our touch, should the hundredth appall? In the least things have faith, yet distrust in the greatest of all? Do I find love so full in my nature, God's ultimate gift. That I doubt his own love can compete with it? Here, the parts shift? Here, the creature surpass the Creator,-the end, what Began? Would I fain in my impotent yearning do all for this man, And dare doubt he alone shall not help Of the life he was gifted and filled with? Such a body, and then such an earth for insphering the whole? And doth it not enter my mind (as my warm tears attest) These good things being given, to go on, and give one more, the best? Ay, to save and redeem and restore him, maintain at the height This perfection,-succeed with f Saul the failure, the ruin he seems lude, to find himself set -a new harmony yet To be run, and continued, and erdal XVIII "I believe it! Tis thou, God, ta givest, 't is I who receive: In the first is the last, in thy will is n power to believe. All's one gift: thou canst grant it my tit over, as prompt to my prayer To look that, even that in the face t Think but lightly of such impuissane : exalts him, but what man Would See the King--I would help him but ca1· not, the wishes fall through. Could I wrestle to raise him from sorro grow poor to enrich, To fill up his life, starve my own out. I would-knowing which, I know that my service is perfect. C speak through me now! Would I suffer for him that I love So wouldst thou-so wilt thou! ine So shall crown thee the topmost, blest, uttermost crown- Turn of eye, wave of hand, that saira y power, that exists with and for it, of being Beloved! who did most, shall bear most; the strongest shall stand the most weak. is the weakness in strength, that I cry or! my flesh, that I seek the Godhead! I seek and I find it. O Saul, it shall be Face like my face that receives thee; Man like to me, ou shalt love and be loved by, forever: a Hand like this hand all throw open the gates of new life to thee! See the Christ stand!" XIX know not too well how I found my way home in the night. here were witnesses, cohorts about me, to left and to right, agels, powers, the unuttered, unseen, repressed, I got through them as 3 a runner beset by the populace fe or death. The whole earth was awakened, hell loosed with her crews; nd the stars of night beat with emotion, and tingled and shot ut in fire the strong pain of pent knowledge: but I fainted not, or the Hand still impelled me at once and supported, suppressed ll the tumult, and quenched it with quiet, and holy behest. the rapture was shut in itself, and the earth sank to rest. non at the dawn, all that trouble had withered from earth ot so much, but I saw it die out in the day's tender birth; the gathered intensity brought to the gray of the hills; the shuddering forests' held breath; in the sudden wind-thrills; And the little brooks witnessing murmured, persistent and low, the startled wild beasts that bore off, each with eye sidling still With their obstinate, all but hushed voices-" E'en so, it is so!" hough averted with wonder and dread; in the birds stiff and chill hat rose heavily, as I approached them, made stupid with awe: en the serpent that slid away silent,— he felt the new law. he same stared in the white humid faces upturned by the flowers; he same worked in the heart of the cedar and moved the vine-bowers: 1845. 1855.1 A WOMAN'S LAST WORD All be as before, Love, What so wild as words are? In debate, as birds are, See the creature stalking What so false as truth is, False to thee? Where the serpent's tooth is Where the apple reddens Never pry Lest we lose our Edens, Eve and I. Viewed the games. But he looked upon the city, every side, And I know, while thus the quiet-colored eve Smiles to leave All the mountains topped with temples, To their folding, all our many-tinkling fleece In such peace, And the slopes and rills in undistin guished gray Melt away All the causeys, bridges, aqueducts,— and then, All the men! When I do come, she will speak not, she will stand, Either hand On my shoulder, give her eyes the first embrace Of my face, Ere we rush, ere we extinguish sight and speech Each on each. In one year they sent a million fighters forth South and North, And they built their gods a brazen pillar high As the sky, (AS DISTINGUISHED BY AN ITALIAN PERSON OF QUALITY) HAD I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare, The house for me no doubt, were a house in the city-square; Ah, such a life, such a life, as one leads at the window there! That a girl with eager eyes and yellow Something to see, by Bacchus, some hair Waits me there In the turret whence the charioteers caught soul For the goal, thing to hear, at least! There, the whole day long, one's life is a perfect feast; While up at a villa one lives, I maintain it, no more than a beast. |