Of many changes, aptly join'd, Is bodied forth the second whole. Regard gradation, lest the soul Of Discord race the rising wind; A wind to puff your idol-fires, And heap their ashes on the head; To shame the boast so often made, That we are wiser than our sires. O, yet, if Nature's evil star If New and Old, disastrous feud, Not yet the wise of heart would cease To hold his hope thro' shame and guilt, But with his hand against the hilt, Would pace the troubled land, like Peace; Not less, tho' dogs of Faction bay, Would serve his kind in deed and word, Certain, if knowledge bring the sword, That knowledge takes the sword away Would love the gleams of love that broke From either side, nor veil his eyes; And if some dreadful need should rise Would strike, and firmly, and one stroke. To-morrow yet would reap to-day, As we bear blossom of the dead; Earn well the thrifty months, nor wed Raw Haste, half-sister to Delay. My good blade carves the casques of men, The shattering trumpet shrilleth high, They reel, they roll in clanging lists, And when the tide of combat stands, That lightly rain from ladies' hands. How sweet are looks that ladies bend For them I battle till the end, To save from shame and thrall; My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine; I never felt the kiss of love, Nor maiden's hand in mine. More bounteous aspects on me beam, Me mightier transports move and thrill; When down the stormy crescent goes, Then by some secret shrine I ride; I hear a voice, but none are there; Fair gleams the snowy altar-cloth, Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres I leap on board; no helmsman steers; A gentle sound, an awful light! Three angels bear the Holy Grail; And starlike mingles with the stars. When on my goodly charger borne The cock crows ere the Christmas morn, And, ringing, springs from brand and mail; But o'er the dark a glory spreads, And gilds the driving hail. I leave the plain, I climb the height; A maiden knight-to me is given I muse on joy that will not cease, Whose odors haunt my dreams; The clouds are broken in the sky, Swells up and shakes and falls. By bridge and ford, by park and pale, Until I find the Holy Grail. 642 THE HIGHER PANTHEISM THE sun, the moon, the stars, the seas, the hills and the plains, Are not these, O Soul, the Vision of Him, who reigns? Is not the Vision He, tho' He be not that which He seems? Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams? Earth, these solid stars, this weight of body and limb, Dark is the world to thee; thyself art the reason why, Glory about thee, without thee; and thou fulfillest thy doom, Making Him broken gleams and a stifled splendor and gloom. Speak to Him, thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet. God is law, say the wise; O Soul, and let us rejoice, For if He thunder by law the thunder is yet His voice. Law is God, say some; no God at all, says the fool, For all we have power to see is a straight staff bent in a pool; And the ear of man cannot hear, and the eye of man cannot see; But if we could see and hear, this Vision-were it not He? 643 FLOWER IN THE CRANNIEd Wall FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, GLORY of warrior, glory of orator, glory of song, Paid with a voice flying by to be lost on an endless seaGlory of Virtue, to fight, to struggle, to right the wrongNay, but she aim'd not at glory, no lover of glory she; Give her the glory of going on, and still to be. The wages of sin is death: if the wages of Virtue be dust, Would she have heart to endure for the life of the worm and the fly? She desires no isles of the blest, no quiet seats of the just, To rest in a golden grove, or to bask in a summer sky; Give her the wages of going on, and not to die. 645 THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. |