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Robert Browning - Delphi Poets Series

Page 210

by Robert Browning


  Then from the fellow of gods — misery’s mate, to the man!

  — Man henceforth and forever, who lent from the glow of his nature

  Warmth to the cold, with light coloured the black and the blank.

  So did a man conceive of your passion, you passion-protesters!

  So did he trust, so love — being the truth of your lie! 90

  You to aspire to be Man! Man made you who vainly would ape him:

  You are the hoUowness, he — filling you, falsifies void.

  Even as — witness the emblem, Hell’s sad triumph suspended,

  Born of my tears, sweat, blood — bursting to vapour above —

  Arching my torment, an iris ghostlike startles the darkness,

  Cold white — jewelry quenched — justifies, glorifies pain.

  Strive, my kind, though strife endure thro’ endless obstruction,

  Stage after stage, each rise marred by as certain a fall!

  Baffled forever — yet never so baffled but, e’en in the baffling,

  When Man’s strength proves weak, checked in the body or soul — 100

  Whatsoever the medium, flesh or essence, — Ixion’s

  Made for a purpose of hate, — clothing the entity Thou,

  — Medium whence that entity strives for the Not-Thou beyond it,

  Fire elemental, free, frame unencumbered, the All, —

  Never so baffled but — when, on the verge of an alien existence,

  Heartened to press, by pangs burst to the infinite Pure,

  Nothing is reached but the ancient weakness still that arrests strength,

  Circumambient still, still the poor human array,

  Pride and revenge and hate and cruelty — all it has burst through,

  Thought to escape, — fresh formed, found in the fashion it fled, — 110

  Never so baffled but — when Man pays the price of endeavour,

  Thunderstruck, downthrust, Tartaros-doomed to the wheel, —

  Then, ay, then, from the tears and sweat and blood of his torment,

  E’en from the triumph of Hell, up let him look and rejoice!

  What is the influence, high o’er Hell, that turns to a rapture

  Pain — and despair’s murk mists blends in a rainbow of hope?

  What is beyond the obstruction, stage by stage tho’ it baffle?

  Back must I fall, confess “Ever the weakness I fled”?

  No, for beyond, far, far is a Purity all-unobstructed!

  Zeus was Zeus — not Man: wrecked by his weakness, I whirl. 120

  Out of the wreck I rise — past Zeus to the Potency o’er him!

  I — to have hailed him my friend! I — to have clasped her — my love!

  Pallid birth of my pain, — where light, where light is, aspiring

  Thither I rise, whilst thou — Zeus, keep the godship and sink!

  Jochanan Hakkadosh

  “This now, this other story makes amends

  And justifies our Mishna,” quoth the Jew

  Aforesaid. “Tell it, learnedest of friends!”

  — — — — —

  A certain morn broke beautiful and blue

  O’er Schiphaz city, bringing joy and mirth,

  — So had ye deemed; while the reverse was true,

  Since one small house there gave a sorrow birth

  In such black sort that, to each faithful eye,

  Midnight, not morning settled on the earth.

  How else, when it grew certain thou wouldst die, 10

  Our much-enlightened master, Israel’s prop,

  Eximious Jochanan Ben Sabbathai?

  Old, yea, but, undiminished of a drop,

  The vital essence pulsed through heart and brain;

  Time left unsickled yet the plenteous crop

  On poll and chin and cheek, whereof a skein

  Handmaids might weave — hairs silk-soft, silver-white,

  Such as the wool-plant’s; none the less in vain

  Had Physic striven her best against the spite

  Of fell disease: the Rabbi must succumb; 20

  And, round the couch whereon in piteous plight

  He lay a-dying, scholars, — awe-struck, dumb

  Throughout the night-watch, — roused themselves and spoke

  One to the other: “Ere death’s touch benumb

  “His active sense, — while yet ‘neath Reason’s yoke

  Obedient toils his tongue, — befits we claim

  The fruit of long experience, bid this oak

  “Shed us an acorn which may, all the same,

  Grow to a temple-pillar, — dear that day! —

  When Israel’s scattered seed finds place and name 30

  “Among the envious nations. Lamp us, pray,

  Thou the Knlightener! Partest hence in peace?

  Hailest without regret — much less, dismay —

  “The hour of thine approximate release

  From fleshly bondage soul hath found obstruct?

  Calmly envisagest the sure increase

  “Of knowledge? Eden’s tree must hold unplucked

  Some apple, sure, has never tried thy tooth,

  Juicy with sapience thou hast sought, not sucked?

  “Say, does agn acquiesce in vanished youth? 40

  Still towers thy purity above — as erst —

  Our pleasant follies? Be thy last word — truth!”

  The Rabbi groaned; then, grimly, “Last as first

  The truth speak I — in boyhood who began

  Striving to live an angel, and, amerced

  “For such presumption, die now hardly man.

  What have I proved of life? To live, indeed,

  That much I learned: but here lies Jochanan

  “More luckless than stood David when, to speed

  His fighting with the Philistine, they brought 50

  Saul’s harness forth: whereat, ‘Alack, I need

  “ ‘Armour to arm me, but have never fought

  With sword and spear, nor tried to manage shield,

  Proving arms’ use, as well-trained warrior ought.

  “ ‘Only a sling and pebbles can I wield!’

  So he: while I, contrariwise, ‘No trick

  Of weapon helpful on the battle-field

  “Comes unfamiliar to my theoric:

  But, bid me put in practice what I know,

  Give me a sword — it stings like Moses’ stick, 60

  “ ‘A serpent I let drop apace.’ E’en so,

  I, — able to comport me at each stage

  Of human life as never here below

  “Man played his part, — since mine the heritage

  Of wisdom carried to that perfect pitch,

  Ye rightly praise, — I therefore, who, thus sage,

  “Could sure act man triumphantly, enrich

  Life’s annals with example how I played

  Lover, Bard, Soldier, Statist, — (all of which

  “Parts in presentment failing, cries invade 70

  The world’s ear — ’Ah, tbe Past, the pearl-gift thrown

  To hogs, time’s opportunity we made

  “ ‘So light of, only recognized when flown!

  Had we been wise!’) — in fine, I — wise enough, —

  What profit brings me wisdom never shown

  “Just when its showing would from each rebuff

  Shelter weak virtue, threaten back to bounds

  Encroaching vice, tread smooth each track too rough

  “For youth’s unsteady footstep, climb the rounds

  Of life’s long ladder, one by slippery one, 80

  Yet make no stumble? Me hard fate confounds

  “With that same crowd of wailers I outrun

  By promising to teach another cry

  Of more hilarious mood than theirs, the sun

  “I look my last at is insulted by.

  What cry, — ye ask? Give ear on every side!

  Witness yon Lover! ‘How entrapped am I!

&nb
sp; “ ‘Methought, because a virgin’s rose-lip vied

  With ripe Khubbezleh’s, needs must beauty mate

  With meekness and discretion in a bride: 90

  “ ‘Bride she became to me who wail — too late —

  Unwise I loved!’ That’s one cry. ‘Mind’s my gift:

  I might have loaded me with lore, full weight

  “ ‘Pressed down and running over at each rift

  O’ the brain-bag where the famished clung and fed.

  I filled it with what rubbish! — would not sift

  “ ‘The wheat from chaff, sound grain from musty — shed

  Poison abroad as oft as nutriment —

  And sighing say but as my fellows said,

  “ ‘Unwise I learned!’ That’s two. ‘In dwarf’s-play spent 100

  Was giant’s prowess: warrior all unversed

  In war’s right waging, I struck brand, was lent

  “ ‘For steel’s fit service, on mere stone — and cursed

  Alike the shocked limb and the shivered steel,

  Seeing too late the blade’s true use which erst

  “ ‘How was I blind to! My cry swells the peal —

  Unwise I fought!’ That’s three. But wherefore waste

  Breath on the wailings longer? Why reveal

  “A root of bitterness whereof the taste

  Is noisome to Humanity at large? 110

  First we get Power, but Power absurdly placed

  “In Folly’s keeping, who resigns her charge

  To Wisdom when all Power grows nothing worth

  Bones marrowless are mocked with helm and targe

  “When, like your Master’s, soon below the earth

  With worms shall warfare only be. Fare well,

  Children! I die a failure since my birth!”

  “Not so!” arose a protest as, pell-mell,

  They pattered from his chamber to the street,

  Bent on a last resource. Our Targums tell 120

  That such resource there is. Put case, there meet

  The Nine Points of Perfection — rarest chance —

  Within some saintly teacher whom the fleet

  Years, in their blind implacable advance,

  O’ertake beforeflit teaching born of these

  Have magnified his scholars’ countenance, —

  If haply folk compassionating please

  To render up — according to his store,

  Each one — a portion of the life he sees

  Hardly worth saving when ‘tis set before 130

  Earth’s benefit should the Saint, Hakkadosh,

  Favoured thereby, attain to full fourscore —

  If such contribute (Scoffer, spare thy “Bosh!”)

  A year, a month, a day, an hour — to eke

  Life out, — in him away the gift shall wash

  That much of ill-spent time recorded, streak

  The twilight of the so-assisted sage

  With a new sunrise: truth, though strange to speak!

  Quick to the doorway, then, where youth and age,

  All Israel, thronging, waited for the last 140

  News of the loved one. “‘Tis the final stage:

  “Art’s utmost done, the Rabbi’s feet tread fast

  The way of all flesh!” So announced that apt

  Olive-branch Tsaddik: “Yet, O Brethren, cast

  “No eye to earthward! Look where heaven has clapped

  Morning’s extinguisher — yon ray-shot robe

  Of sun-threads — on the constellation mapped

  “And mentioned by our Elders, — yea, from Job

  Down to Satam, — as figuring forth — what?

  Perpend a mystery! Ye call it Dob, 150

  “ ‘The Bear’: I trow, a wiser name than that

  Were Aisch — ’The Bier’: a corpse those four stars hold,

  Which — are not those Three Daughters weeping at,

  “Banoth? I judge so: list while I unfold

  The reason. As in twice twelve hours this Bier

  Goes and returns, about the East-cone rolled,

  “So may a setting luminary here

  Be rescued from extinction, rolled anew

  Upon its track of labour, strong and clear,

  “About the Pole — that Salem, every Jew 160

  Helps to build up when thus he saves some Saint

  Ordained its architect. Ye grasp the clue

  “To all ye seek? The Rabbi’s lamp-flame faint

  Sinks: would ye raise it? Lend then life from yours,

  Spare each his oil-drop! Do I need acquaint

  “The Chosen how self-sacrifice ensures

  Tenfold requital? — urge ye emulate

  The fame of those Old Just Ones death procures

  “Such praise for, that ‘tis now men’s sole debate

  Which of the Ten who volunteered at Rome 170

  To die for glory to our Race, was great

  “Beyond his fellows? Was it thou — the comb

  Of iron carded, flesh from bone, away,

  While thy lips sputtered thro’ their bloody foam

  “Without a stoppage (O brave Akiba!)

  ‘Hear, Israel, our Lord God is One’? Or thou,

  Jischab? — who smiledst, burning, since there lay,

  “Burning along with thee, our Law! I trow,

  Such martyrdom might tax flesh to afford:

  While that for which I make petition now, 180

  “To what amounts it? Youngster, wilt thou hoard

  Each minute of long years thou look’st to spend

  In dalliance with thy spouse? Hast thou so soared,

  “Singer of songs, all out of sight of friend

  And teacher, warbling like a woodland bird,

  There’s left no Selah, ‘twixt two psalms, to lend

  “Our late-so-tuneful quirist? Thou, averred

  The fighter born to plant our lion-flag

  Once more on Zion’s mount, — doth, all-unheard,

  “My pleading fail to move thee? Toss some rag 190

  Shall staunch our wound, some minute never missed

  From swordsman’s lustihood like thine! Wilt lag

  “In liberal bestowment, show close fist

  When open palm we look for, — thou, wide-known

  For statecraft? whom, ‘tis said, an if thou list,

  “The Shah himself would seat beside his throne.

  So valued were advice from thee” . . . But here

  He stopped short: such a hubbub! Not alone

  From those addressed, but far as well as near

  The crowd broke into clamour: “Mine, mine, mine — 200

  Lop from my life the excrescence, never fear!

  “At me thou lookedst, markedst me! Assign

  To me that privilege of granting life —

  Mine, mine!” Then he: “Be patient! I combine

  “The needful portions only, wage no strife

  With Nature’s law nor seek to lengthen out

  The Rabbi’s day unduly. ‘Tis the knife

  “I stop, — would cut its thread too short. About

  As much as helps life last the proper term,

  The appointed Fourscore, — that I crave, and scout 210

  “A too-prolonged existence. Let the worm

  Change at fit season to the butterfly!

  And here a story strikes me, to confirm

  “This judgment. Of our worthies, none ranks high

  As Perida who kept the famous school:

  None rivalled him in patience: none! For why?

  “In lecturing it was his constant rule,

  Whatever he expounded, to repeat

  — Ay, and keep on repeating, lest some fool

  “Should fail to understand him fully — (feat 220

  Unparalleled, Uzzean!) — do ye mark? —

  Five hundred times! So might he entrance beat

  “For knowledge into howsoever dark

  And dense
the brain-pan. Yet it happed, at close

  Of one especial lecture, not one spark

  “Of light was found to have illumed the rows

  Of pupils round their pedagogue. ‘What, still

  Impenetrable to me? Then — here goes!’

  “And for a second time he sets the rill

  Of knowledge running, and five hundred times 230

  More re-repeats the matter — and gains nil.

  “Out broke a voice from heaven: ‘Thy patience climbs

  Even thus high. Choose! Wilt thou, rather, quick

  Ascend to bliss — or, since thy zeal sublimes

  “ ‘Such drudgery, will thy back still bear its crick,

  Bent o’er thy class, — thy voice drone spite of drouth, —

  Five hundred years more at thy desk wilt stick?’

  “ ‘To heaven with me!’ was in the good man’s mouth,

  When all his scholars — cruel-kind were they! —

  Stopped utterance, from East, West, North and South, 240

  “Rending the welkin with their shout of ‘Nay —

  No heaven as yet for our instructor! Grant

  Five hundred years on earth for Perida!’

  “And so long did he keep instructing! Want

  Our Master no such misery! I but take

  Three months of life marital. Ministrant

  “Be thou of so much, Poet! Bold I make,

  Swordsman, with thy frank offer! — and conclude,

  Statist, with thine! One year, — ye will not shake

  “My purpose to accept no more. So rude? 250

  The very boys and girls, forsooth, must press

  And proffer their addition? Thanks! The mood

  “Is laudable, but I reject, no less,

  One month, week, day of life more. Leave my gown,

  Ye overbold ones! Your life’s gift, you guess,

  “Were good as any? Rudesby, get thee down!

  Set my feet free, or fear my staff! Farewell,

  Seniors and saviours, sharers of renown

  “With Jochanan henceforward!” Straightway fell

  Sleep on the sufferer; who awoke in health, 260

  Hale everyway, so potent was the spell.

  — — — — —

  O the rare Spring-time! Who is he by stealth

  Approaches Jochanan? — embowered that sits

  Under his vine and figtree mid the wealth

  Of garden-sights and sounds, since intermits

  Never the turtle’s coo, nor stays nor stints

  The rose her smell. In homage that befits

  The musing Master, Tsaddik, see, imprints

  A kiss on the extended foot, low bends

  Forehead to earth, then, all-obsequious, hints 270

  “What if it should be time? A period ends —

  That of the Lover’s gift — his quarter-year

 

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