A Book of Strife in the Form of The Diary of an Old Soul Part 14

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 pa.s.s pain and grief and fear, Out from behind it unchanged love s.h.i.+nes 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.

19.

Yet more and more of me thou dost demand; My faith and hope in G.o.d alone shall stand, The life of law--not trust the rain and sun To draw the golden harvest o'er the land.

I must not say--"This too will pa.s.s and die,"

"The wind will change," "Round will the seasons run."

Law is the body of will, of conscious harmony.

20.

Who trusts a law, might wors.h.i.+p a G.o.d of wood; Half his soul slumbers, if it be not dead.

He is a live thing shut in chaos crude, Hemmed in with dragons--a remorseless head Still hanging over its uplifted eyes.

No; G.o.d is all in all, and nowhere dies-- The present heart and thinking will of good.

21.

Law is our schoolmaster. Our master, Christ, Lived under all our laws, yet always prayed-- So walked the water when the storm was highest.-- Law is Thy father's; thou hast it obeyed, And it thereby subject to thee hast made-- To rule it, master, for thy brethren's sakes:-- Well may he guide the law by whom law's maker makes.

22.

Death haunts our souls with dissolution's strife; Soaks them with unrest; makes our every breath A throe, not action; from G.o.d's purest gift Wipes off the bloom; and on the harp of faith Its fretted strings doth slacken still and s.h.i.+ft: Life everywhere, perfect, and always life, Is sole redemption from this haunting death.

23.

G.o.d, thou from death dost lift me. As I rise, Its Lethe from my garment drips and flows.

Ere long I shall be safe in upper air, With thee, my life--with thee, my answered prayer Where thou art G.o.d in every wind that blows, And self alone, and ever, softly dies, There shall my being blossom, and I know it fair.

24.

I would dig, Master, in no field but thine, Would build my house only upon thy rock, Yet am but a dull day, with a sea-sheen!

Why should I wonder then that they should mock, Who, in the limbo of things heard and seen, Hither and thither blowing, lose the s.h.i.+ne Of every light that hangs in the firmament divine.

25.

Lord, loosen in me the hold of visible things; Help me to walk by faith and not by sight; I would, through thickest veils and coverings, See into the chambers of the living light.

Lord, in the land of things that swell and seem, Help me to walk by the other light supreme, Which shows thy facts behind man's vaguely hinting dream.

26.

I see a little child whose eager hands Search the thick stream that drains the crowded street For possible things hid in its current slow.

Near by, behind him, a great palace stands, Where kings might welcome n.o.bles to their feet.

Soft sounds, sweet scents, fair sights there only go-- There the child's father lives, but the child does not know.

27.

On, eager, hungry, busy-seeking child, Rise up, turn round, run in, run up the stair.

Far in a chamber from rude noise exiled, Thy father sits, pondering how thou dost fare.

The mighty man will clasp thee to his breast: Will kiss thee, stroke the tangles of thy hair, And lap thee warm in fold on fold of lovely rest.

28.

The prince of this world came, and nothing found In thee, O master; but, ah, woe is me!

He cannot pa.s.s me, on other business bound, But, spying in me things familiar, he Casts over me the shadow of his flight, And straight I moan in darkness--and the fight Begins afresh betwixt the world and thee.

29.

In my own heart, O master, in my thought, Betwixt the woolly sheep and hairy goat Not clearly I distinguish; but I think Thou knowest that I fight upon thy side.

The how I am ashamed of; for I shrink From many a blow--am borne on the battle-tide, When I should rush to the front, and take thy foe by the throat.

30.

The enemy still hath many things in me; Yea, many an evil nest with open hole Gapes out to him, at which he enters free.

But, like the impact of a burning coal, His presence mere straight rouses the garrison, And all are up in arms, and down on knee, Fighting and praying till the foe is gone.

OCTOBER.

1.

REMEMBER, Lord, thou hast not made me good.

Or if thou didst, it was so long ago I have forgotten--and never understood, I humbly think. At best it was a crude, A rough-hewn goodness, that did need this woe, This sin, these harms of all kinds fierce and rude, To shape it out, making it live and grow.

2.

But thou art making me, I thank thee, sire.

What thou hast done and doest thou know'st well, And I will help thee:--gently in thy fire I will lie burning; on thy potter's-wheel I will whirl patient, though my brain should reel; Thy grace shall be enough the grief to quell, And growing strength perfect through weakness dire.