The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning Volume I Part 13

_Ador._ Hearest thou the attestation Of the roused universe Like a desert-lion shaking Dews of silence from its mane?

With an irrepressive pa.s.sion Uprising at once, Rising up and forsaking Its solemn state in the circle of suns, To attest the pain Of him who stands (O patience sweet!) In his own hand-prints of creation, With human feet?

_Voice of all things._ Is there no moan but ours?

_Zerah._ Forms, s.p.a.ces, Motions wide, O meek, insensate things, O congregated matters! who inherit, Instead of vital powers, Impulsions G.o.d-supplied; Instead of influent spirit, A clear informing beauty; Instead of creature-duty, Submission calm as rest.

Lights, without feet or wings, In golden courses sliding!

Glooms, stagnantly subsiding, Whose l.u.s.trous heart away was prest Into the argent stars!

Ye crystal firmamental bars That hold the skyey waters free From tide or tempest's ecstasy!

Airs universal! thunders lorn That wait your lightnings in cloud-cave Hewn out by the winds! O brave And subtle elements! the Holy Hath charged me by your voice with folly.[D]

Enough, the mystic arrow leaves its wound.

Return ye to your silences inborn, Or to your inarticulated sound!

_Ador._ Zerah!

_Zerah._ Wilt _thou_ rebuke?

G.o.d hath rebuked me, brother. I am weak.

_Ador._ Zerah, my brother Zerah! could I speak Of thee, 'twould be of love to thee.

_Zerah._ Thy look Is fixed on earth, as mine upon thy face.

Where shall I seek His?

I have thrown One look upon earth, but one, Over the blue mountain-lines, Over the forests of palms and pines, Over the harvest-lands golden, Over the valleys that fold in The gardens and vines-- He is not there.

All these are unworthy Those footsteps to bear, Before which, bowing down I would fain quench the stars of my crown In the dark of the earthy.

Where shall I seek him?

No reply?

Hath language left thy lips, to place Its vocal in thine eye?

Ador, Ador! are we come To a double portent, that Dumb matter grows articulate And songful seraphs dumb?

Ador, Ador!

_Ador._ I constrain The pa.s.sion of my silence. None Of those places gazed upon Are gloomy enow to fit his pain.

Unto Him, whose forming word Gave to Nature flower and sward.

She hath given back again, For the myrtle--the thorn, For the sylvan calm--the human scorn.

Still, still, reluctant seraph, gaze beneath!

There is a city----

_Zerah._ Temple and tower, Palace and purple would droop like a flower, (Or a cloud at our breath) If He neared in his state The outermost gate.

_Ador._ Ah me, not so In the state of a king did the victim go!

And THOU who hangest mute of speech 'Twixt heaven and earth, with forehead yet Stained by the b.l.o.o.d.y sweat, G.o.d! man! Thou hast forgone thy throne in each.

_Zerah._ Thine eyes behold him?

_Ador._ Yea, below.

Track the gazing of mine eyes, Naming G.o.d within thine heart That its weakness may depart And the vision rise!

Seest thou yet, beloved?

_Zerah._ I see Beyond the city, crosses three And mortals three that hang thereon 'Ghast and silent to the sun.

Round them blacken and welter and press Staring mult.i.tudes whose father Adam was, whose brows are dark With his Cain's corroded mark,-- Who curse with looks. Nay--let me rather Turn unto the wilderness!

_Ador._ Turn not! G.o.d dwells with men.

_Zerah._ Above He dwells with angels, and they love.

Can these love? With the living's pride They stare at those who die, who hang In their sight and die. They bear the streak Of the crosses' shadow, black not wide, To fall on their heads, as it swerves aside When the victims' pang Makes the dry wood creak.

_Ador._ The cross--the cross!

_Zerah._ A woman kneels The mid cross under, With white lips asunder, And motion on each.

They throb, as she feels, With a spasm, not a speech; And her lids, close as sleep, Are less calm, for the eyes Have made room there to weep Drop on drop--

_Ador._ Weep? Weep blood, All women, all men!

He sweated it, He, For your pale womanhood And base manhood. Agree That these water-tears, then, Are vain, mocking like laughter: Weep blood! Shall the flood Of salt curses, whose foam is the darkness, on roll Forward, on from the strand of the storm-beaten years, And back from the rocks of the horrid hereafter, And up, in a coil, from the present's wrath-spring, Yea, down from the windows of heaven opening, Deep calling to deep as they meet on His soul-- And men weep only tears?

_Zerah._ Little drops in the lapse!

And yet, Ador, perhaps It is all that they can.

Tears! the lovingest man Has no better bestowed Upon man.

_Ador._ Nor on G.o.d.

_Zerah._ Do all-givers need gifts?

If the Giver said "Give," the first motion would slay Our Immortals, the echo would ruin away The same worlds which he made. Why, what angel uplifts Such a music, so clear, It may seem in G.o.d's ear Worth more than a woman's hoa.r.s.e weeping? And thus, Pity tender as tears, I above thee would speak, Thou woman that weepest! weep unscorned of us!

I, the tearless and pure, am but loving and weak.

_Ador._ Speak low, my brother, low,--and not of love Or human or angelic! Rather stand Before the throne of that Supreme above, In whose infinitude the secrecies Of thine own being lie hid, and lift thine hand Exultant, saying, "Lord G.o.d, I am wise!"-- Than utter _here_, "I love."

_Zerah._ And yet thine eyes Do utter it. They melt in tender light, The tears of heaven.

_Ador._ Of heaven. Ah me!

_Zerah._ Ador!

_Ador._ Say on!

_Zerah._ The crucified are three.

Beloved, they are unlike.

_Ador._ Unlike.

_Zerah._ For one Is as a man who has sinned and still Doth wear the wicked will, The hard malign life-energy, Tossed outward, in the parting soul's disdain, On brow and lip that cannot change again.

_Ador._ And one--

_Zerah._ Has also sinned.

And yet (O marvel!) doth the Spirit-wind Blow white those waters? Death upon his face Is rather s.h.i.+ne than shade, A tender s.h.i.+ne by looks beloved made: He seemeth dying in a quiet place, And less by iron wounds in hands and feet Than heart-broke by new joy too sudden and sweet.

_Ador._ And ONE!--

_Zerah._ And ONE!--

_Ador._ Why dost thou pause?