He had thus posed as a philosopher;
Then simpered on from God to talk of dress.
But lo! from all the sea a murmur rose,
Impressive to the wise because it held
Meaning beyond the common words of man:
Yet those upon the deck took little heed;
They knew it not; but thought it was the wind
Mournful among the waves. And so they passed.
Yet I, who had been wise through dying soon,
Heard and interpreted, and this it was:
“I have seen God! And who are ye who say,
With such assurance, that there is no God?
Again, I ask, Who are ye, and from whence?
And asking, laugh your littleness to scorn,
For even your beginnings are not known
To ye, O small and febrile things, who flash
in one small instant through your small gamut
Of feelings insignificant, and whose
Whole life and knowledge are no more than breath,
Measured according to my pulsing heart!
“Did ye then live in those unknown, strange days
When God and I conversed, and He, abroad
Upon my seething waters, spoke of you,
As of some things that were to come at last,
In some dim future time when this round world
Was fitted for ye by the hands of Time?”
The voice was quiet a moment; then again
It hushed to silence every tinkling wave,
And thus it spoke:
— “Listen, and ye shall learn!
In the abyss of time, when God was young,
When heaven was one void of holy light,
When the great stars slept in the future’s womb,
And human atoms were undreamt of dust,
There swept from far beyond time’s spaceless sea
A sound of thunder - ’twas the voice of God,
And at the sound the solemn light was gapped,
Dark streakings fled across it, and there grew,
Amid the calmer light, clots of hot fire,
As light drew unto light - rotating flames,
As the pale light of heav’n massed into shapes
The nebula of unformed suns, and grew
Smaller, by aeons, casting off loose worlds,
Their flaming children, which in turn gave birth
To lesser worlds of fire, and so was born
The universe of suns and worlds, of which
This fireless world is part, as is one grain
Of sand a portion of some mighty waste.
“Ages passed on; then was I born to life,
Born into life with the hot blood of fire,
Floating with thunders on the breath of flames.
“In infancy and childhood, wrapped in steam,
I slept through centuries, anon disturbed
With the fierce tumult by my passions wrought,
Till after many ages I awoke
And looked around upon a world of war,
When great volcanoes - torches for the gods,
Lit the black dome which canopied the world.
“Aeons fled onward whilst I fought and learnt,
And so I came to know of God till we
Talked many an age of years - He teaching me
From the surrounding chaos of the world
Dread lessons writ in storms and roaring fires
Till, somewhat, I perceived the mighty sense
Speaking within the tumult of the earth
Shouting of life on life, of things beyond
My youthful intellect and younger heart,
Teaching the waiting lesson; so at last
Was I prepared to bear my wondrous task.
“The world had sunk to quietness ere I knew
The full import of that which ailed in me;
I scarce could rest in peace, so strange I felt.
“Pregnant I was - uneasy in my calm,
Until my time was full for giving birth;
Then, ‘mid the shakings of a mighty storm,
I lay convulsed in agony, while winds
Screamed in terrific unison. On high
God looked down on me all sorrowing,
And all unable to give help or ease.
So through tremendous years of pain, my voice
Shouted my grief across a quaking sky,
So that the unavailing winds, all drowned
Within that star-loud, reverberating sound,
Seemed but as gentle whispers - purling streams
Blent in the roar of some stupendous fall.
And lo: when it was o’er, around my breasts,
White with the foamy milk of life, there lay
Upon my midnight waters, vastly grim,
Ten-thousand times ten-thousand souls new born,
Like scarcely fallen snow-flakes on dark rocks.
“Thus was creation now achieved, and so,
In his right time, man was evolved, and grew
Into his present shape, with underneath
His heavier flesh, a soul such as was born
In that supremely distant time, when man,
As ye now know him, was undreamt of earth!”
Some hours of silence followed, while the Sea
Rested, as though communing with itself,
Till, in the West, the night soared up on wings
Of gorgeous colours, that too soon were grey.
Then, as the dark came down upon the Sea,
Strange voices called from the surrounding air
Sadness and want spoke chiefly in their tones,
Though all were not thus, as thou soon shalt hear.
Then from the Sea a whisper rose, and said:
“Hark ye, these be the souls of those who sleep,
Perchance, in distant countries, while their minds
Steal out across my waters seeking rest,
Or wisdom. Yet when they awake have they
No knowledge nor remembrance, save it be
Something of which they think as dim-lit dreams.”
From the surrounding voices one broke clear,
Despair and doubt in every tone it seemed:
“Thou Bodyless Thing in the sky,
Wherefore am I?
For why so alone?
Ah! Master of Death,
For why this mad breath?
Which Thou could’st allay,
Nor lengthen my stay
Upon this drear planet of stone.”
’Twas thus the Sea replied:
“Thou art alone
Because by loneliness thou shalt be taught
The hideous solitude which Sin doth cast
About the soul. Thy present loneliness
May serve to save thy soul from future woe;
So bear it as thou canst.
“As for thy breath,
Learn now to temper thy hot soul with strength
From the surrounding air. Curtail all vice,
And work to strengthen that which was thy will,
Thus make this stony planet prove a joy,
Because upon it thou shalt work, through hope,
To further knowledge and the joy of peace.
“Thou askest why thou art. I cannot tell,
Save that it be God’s Will; and only He
In the whole breadth of space can answer thee.
“Now pass thee on with mind intent to live
So that thou shalt attain to peace at last.”
Scarcely had the Sea finished when I heard,
From the encircling silence, one sad voice:
“O, Sea, I have been lonely
For years afar from thee!
Dumb ‘mid an earless People, I strove to speech, in vain.
I had been better served had I
But held my peace as life passed by,
And silence borne my pain!
I spoke about God’s boun
ty,
But sneers were all my gain;
I held out hope with both my hands;
I sang of God’s glad Wonder-Lands,
Yet it was all in vain!”
It ceased, and through the stillness that befell
The Sea made answer so my soul was glad:
“To only the unthinking mind appears
The thought that he who casts himself on spears
Has failed. I tell you he has won
The highest prize; I care not where he aimed!
For, you must know, ’tis he who leads the van
Weak souls may follow after one such man!”
In the succeeding quietness, low I caught
A quick, sweet sob of gladness, and I knew
That one beweighted heart within the world
Was saved from failure’s burden. While great Hope
Thrilled in the soul of one who had been sore;
Revivifying faith to greater life.
And now the voice of one a-dying crept
Sadly across the night to me. It seemed
Full of a sadness, past all comforting:
“Must it be adieu, O, Sea,
Must it be adieu?
The very thought is pain to me,
Yet, from thy quivering blue,
I seem to hear thy sad assent,
For whispers come from thee,
(Soft as the weeping of the dew,
Like sorrowing voices sadly blent,)
Telling that it must be -”
The voice trailed off to silence, and the Sea
Thus made reply in a most saddened voice:
“Full well I share thy grief - To-morrow’s dawn
Shall steal across my breast and find thee not:
O, bitter are all partings! Yet they serve
But to enhance our love. Pray thou to God
That we shall meet some other time, elsewhere,
If not upon this world.
“Now comfort thee!
And fear not death; it is thy greatest friend,
Its pain is but the birth to fuller life,
And after that again to life more vast,
Until thou hast attained to the Last Life.
Where thou shalt breathe deep life beyond relief.
Ah! now good-bye - good-bye! God grant thee speed
Through the strange birth of death - through all thy deaths!”
Sadly an answer wailed across the Sea:
“When I am dead, O, Sea,
As a strange mist upon thy breast
Shall I float back to thee,
Out from the great and dark unrest
Of all eternity!”
The Sea’s voice, singing sadly, then replied:
“Dear piteous soul,
Be comforted!
When thou art dead
(Though multitudes of ages roll)
My old, sad heart
Shall dream of thee,
Who feeleth now death’s bitter smart;
And if thou should’st come back to me
How gladly would my billows cry
Their joy to thee
Who art about to die!
“Be comforted! Be comforted!
When thou art dead,
I shall still dream of thee
When thou hast long forgotten me!”
In sadness and in doubt now spoke the soul:
“After my death, if all alone I tread
My ghostly way along thy lonely coasts,
Wilt thou still know me? Or Shall I be lost
Unto thy sight, and seem no more than mist
Floating upon thy fringe, hair dipt in spume?”
In deep emotion spoke the Sea thuswise:
“Thou, who dost love me so, I cannot tell,
Save that it seems to me thy very love
Shall show thy soul to me amid the mists:
Then shall I take thee to my heart till thou
Art comforted enough to go to God.
“Ah! then, indeed, thou shalt begin to learn
That love as mine and thine is cold as death,
Beside the passion that God has for souls!”
The Ocean ceased from speaking, and the soul
Slid down upon the Sea to rest, while far
From some benighted land a sound of bells,
Ringing a solemn knell, told of some death;
And the vast Sea in sympathy replied
With the deep beatings of its mighty heart.
And from far down a sound of singing rose,
As though a wondrous requiem were sung
A requiem full of sadness; but with hope
Sounding most splendidly among its notes.
A certain time passed on, and then a voice
From some long distant shore came o’er the Sea
Most hopeless in its sadness. And it seemed
It moaned in hollow notes this epitaph:
“Sleep thou in thy bed of clay,
In that darkness where no light
Comes to wake thee from thy rest,
Comes to wake thy lasting night:
Shut from gleam of earthly day
Slumber on, for so ’tis best!
“One brief moment it may seem
Ere a trumpet’s note shall sound,
And thy rested soul shall rise
From its bed of clay embound,
From that long and silent dream
To a Judgment in the skies!”
Somewhat impatient, then exclaimed the Sea:
“Much nonsense is contained within such lines!
There is no need for judgment. Thou shalt live
In many lives among thy deeds until
Thou shalt attain to the Last Life. How then
Shalt thou need judging when thou art involved
?or evermore in all that thou hast worked,
Both good and harmful?
“Nay, there is no need
Of judgment; for thou mightest quite as well
Talk of such things to one who has prepared
A bed of holly thorns on which to sleep,
His punishment’s assured. Leave him alone!
“Likewise, hath one prepared a couch of peace,
There is no need for judgment. He is sure
Of a most joyous sleep. Leave him alone!
“Thus art thou making to thyself a bed,
For all eternity, compact of deeds,
On which to lie. And whether, or not, thy rest
Be peaceful doth depend upon thyself!
“Thou weavest thine own shroud, or thine own robe,
The death of joy, or greater bliss of life.
“’Tis all a matter for thine own concern,
For thou thyself must suffer thine own harm;
Likewise, enjoy all good that thou hast worked
Throughout all time.
“So, truly, shalt thou learn
That thine own deeds are thy remorseless judges!”
Soul:- “O, Sea,
I cannot e’er agree
With thy strange teachings, which seem blasphemy
To me!”
Sea:- “Some judgment of the kind
Thou holdest in thy mind
Why must
Distrust
Still torture humankind?”
Soul:- “O, Sea,
It seems to me
All mankind shall be judged
And weighed;
It shall not be delayed;
Nor past the book of sin
Can any human win,
Nor any record from its page be smudged!”
Sea:- “O, soul,
With pondering
Upon the final goal-
With much long wondering
I tired, to slumbering,
And in my sleep I dreamed
Thy Judgment Day had come
With its tremendous sum
Of threatened misery,
And this is how it seemed
> As I lay sleepily -”
Soul:- “One moment, Sea!
Art speaking seriously?
Thou speakest with such zest,
Methinks thou has some jest
Lurking within thy breast!”
The Sea spoke not awhile; but rested, and began:
“’Twas in my dreams I heard a trumpet’s note
Come ringing down the aisles of time in throbs
The last, long bugle-call sound o’er the world,
A clang’rous, threatening bray that shivered through
And through my soul.
“My heartbeats seemed to cease
As from the heaving earth I saw drive up
The misty forms of long-forgotten dead.
Forgotten now no longer, fast they came,
Piecemeal and limbless - dreadful in their shrouds;
But growing every moment into shape
As flying limbs came jostling through the air
In anxious haste to take a rightful place.
“Thus, as I watched, came to them face and form;
But lo! unheard, unthought of thing, their clothes
Had failed to resurrect, and thus each one
Stood naked on the earth, while that bold sun
Looked down with brazen face upon it all,
And smiled, an awesome, wicked smile, as though
It all along had known, foreseen that this
Should be; that these poor dames and gentlemen
Should stand unclothed in punishment to see
Their manifold transgressions written large
Upon each others naked breasts; so thus
Each man, each woman, knew the others worth
At once, for all time, in a single glance.
“I saw them look and then attempt to hide
Their nakedness. No use! They had no clothes!
And god looked grimly down from that white throne.
“Then, like a thunder-peal, His voice rang out
To those poor shiv’ring corpses: —— —— —’”Let the dead
Make haste their dead to bury from Mine eyes;
For sure am I that this offends My sight!’
“At once each wakeful corpse began to throw
The moist brown earth upon a neighbour’s head,
And each, retaliating, cast it back,
Until a plain of heaving, rolling mould
Ran undulating where awhile before
Had stood those shame-faced corpses. And above,
God smiled a stern and bitter smile as He
Watched their endeavour, all their pitiful toil
To hide each other from themselves and Him.
“And yet, methought the sternness of His smile
Had something in it tender, as He grasped
The grim, pathetic humour of it all.
“And then I waked, and knew it for a dream
A dream to me - a nightmare to the world
Who swallow that which Reason doth reject.”
The Sea ceased from its humour, and the soul,
Complete Works of William Hope Hodgson Page 195