FullReads

8.

Poor am I, God knows, poor as withered leaf;
Poorer or richer than, I dare not ask.
To love aright, for me were hopeless task,
Eternities too high to comprehend.
But shall I tear my heart in hopeless grief,
Or rise and climb, and run and kneel, and bend,
And drink the primal love–so love in chief?

9.

Then love shall wake and be its own high life.
Then shall I know ’tis I that love indeed–
Ready, without a moment’s questioning strife,
To be forgot, like bursting water-bead,
For the high good of the eternal dear;
All hope, all claim, resting, with spirit clear,
Upon the living love that every love doth breed.

10.

Ever seem to fail in utterance.
Sometimes amid the swift melodious dance
Of fluttering words–as if it had not been,
The thought has melted, vanished into night;
Sometimes I say a thing I did not mean,
And lo! ’tis better, by thy ordered chance,
Than what eluded me, floating too feathery light.

11.

If thou wouldst have me speak, Lord, give me speech.
So many cries are uttered now-a-days,
That scarce a song, however clear and true,
Will thread the jostling tumult safe, and reach
The ears of men buz-filled with poor denays:
Barb thou my words with light, make my song new,
And men will hear, or when I sing or preach.

12.

Can anything go wrong with me? I ask–
And the same moment, at a sudden pain,
Stand trembling. Up from the great river’s brim
Comes a cold breath; the farther bank is dim;
The heaven is black with clouds and coming rain;
High soaring faith is grown a heavy task,
And all is wrong with weary heart and brain.

13.

“Things do go wrong. I know grief, pain, and fear.
I see them lord it sore and wide around.”
From her fair twilight answers Truth, star-crowned,
“Things wrong are needful where wrong things abound.
Things go not wrong; but Pain, with dog and spear,
False faith from human hearts will hunt and hound.
The earth shall quake ‘neath them that trust the solid ground.”

14.

Things go not wrong when sudden I fall prone,
But when I snatch my upheld hand from thine,
And, proud or careless, think to walk alone.
Then things go wrong, when I, poor, silly sheep,
To shelves and pits from the good pasture creep;
Not when the shepherd leaves the ninety and nine,
And to the mountains goes, after the foolish one.

15.

Lo! now thy swift dogs, over stone and bush,
After me, straying sheep, loud barking, rush.
There’s Fear, and Shame, and Empty-heart, and Lack,
And Lost-love, and a thousand at their back!
I see thee not, but know thou hound’st them on,
And I am lost indeed–escape is none.
See! there they come, down streaming on my track!

16.

I rise and run, staggering–double and run.–
But whither?–whither?–whither for escape?
The sea lies all about this long-necked cape–
There come the dogs, straight for me every one–
Me, live despair, live centre of alarms!–
Ah! lo! ‘twixt me and all his barking harms,
The shepherd, lo!–I run–fall folded in his arms.

17.

There let the dogs yelp, let them growl and leap;
It is no matter–I will go to sleep.
Like a spent cloud pass pain and grief and fear,
Out from behind it unchanged love shines clear.–
Oh, save me, Christ!–I know not what I am,
I was thy stupid, self-willed, greedy lamb,
Would be thy honest and obedient sheep.

18.

Why is it that so often I return
From social converse with a spirit worn,
A lack, a disappointment–even a sting
Of shame, as for some low, unworthy thing?–
Because I have not, careful, first of all,
Set my door open wide, back to the wall,
Ere I at others’ doors did knock and call.