The Poems of Sidney Lanier Part 18

Heartens his heart as friend befriends his friend less brave, Makes burn the faiths that cool, and cools the doubts that burn: --

I.

"'Twixt this and dawn, three hours my soul will smite With p.r.i.c.kly seconds, or less tolerably With dull-blade minutes flatwise slapping me.

Wait, Heart! Time moves. -- Thou lithe young Western Night, Just-crowned king, slow riding to thy right, Would G.o.d that I might straddle mutiny Calm as thou sitt'st yon never-managed sea, Balk'st with his balking, fliest with his flight, Giv'st supple to his rearings and his falls, Nor dropp'st one coronal star about thy brow Whilst ever dayward thou art steadfast drawn!

Yea, would I rode these mad contentious brawls No damage taking from their If and How, Nor no result save galloping to my Dawn!

II.

"My Dawn? my Dawn? How if it never break?

How if this West by other Wests is pieced, And these by vacant Wests on Wests increased -- One Pain of s.p.a.ce, with hollow ache on ache Throbbing and ceasing not for Christ's own sake? -- Big perilous theorem, hard for king and priest: 'Pursue the West but long enough, 'tis East!'

Oh, if this watery world no turning take!

Oh, if for all my logic, all my dreams, Provings of that which is by that which seems, Fears, hopes, chills, heats, hastes, patiences, droughts, tears, Wife-grievings, slights on love, embezzled years, Hates, treaties, scorns, upliftings, loss and gain, -- This earth, no sphere, be all one sickening plane!

III.

"Or, haply, how if this contrarious West, That me by turns hath starved, by turns hath fed, Embraced, disgraced, beat back, solicited, Have no fixed heart of Law within his breast, Or with some different rhythm doth e'er contest Nature in the East? Why, 'tis but three weeks fled I saw my Judas needle shake his head And flout the Pole that, east, he Lord confessed!

G.o.d! if this West should own some other Pole, And with his tangled ways perplex my soul Until the maze grow mortal, and I die Where distraught Nature clean hath gone astray, On earth some other wit than Time's at play, Some other G.o.d than mine above the sky!

IV.

"Now speaks mine other heart with cheerier seeming: 'Ho, Admiral! o'er-defalking to thy crew Against thyself, thyself far overfew To front yon mult.i.tudes of rebel scheming?'

Come, ye wild twenty years of heavenly dreaming!

Come, ye wild weeks since first this canvas drew Out of vexed Palos ere the dawn was blue, O'er milky waves about the bows full-creaming!

Come set me round with many faithful spears Of confident remembrance -- how I crushed Cat-lived rebellions, pitfalled treasons, hushed Scared husbands' heart-break cries on distant wives, Made cowards blush at whining for their lives, Watered my parching souls, and dried their tears.

V.

"Ere we Gomera cleared, a coward cried, 'Turn, turn: here be three caravels ahead, From Portugal, to take us: we are dead!'

'Hold Westward, pilot,' calmly I replied.

So when the last land down the horizon died, 'Go back, go back!' they prayed: 'our hearts are lead.' -- 'Friends, we are bound into the West,' I said.

Then pa.s.sed the wreck of a mast upon our side.

'See' (so they wept) 'G.o.d's Warning! Admiral, turn!' -- 'Steersman,' I said, 'hold straight into the West.'

Then down the night we saw the meteor burn.

'So do the very heavens in fire protest: Good Admiral, put about! O Spain, dear Spain!' -- 'Hold straight into the West,' I said again.

VI.

"Next drive we o'er the slimy-weeded sea.

'Lo! herebeneath' (another coward cries) 'The cursed land of sunk Atlantis lies: This slime will suck us down -- turn while thou'rt free!' -- 'But no!' I said, 'Freedom bears West for me!'

Yet when the long-time stagnant winds arise, And day by day the keel to westward flies, My Good my people's Ill doth come to be: 'Ever the winds into the West do blow; Never a s.h.i.+p, once turned, might homeward go; Meanwhile we speed into the lonesome main.

For Christ's sake, parley, Admiral! Turn, before We sail outside all bounds of help from pain!' -- 'Our help is in the West,' I said once more.

VII.

"So when there came a mighty cry of 'Land!'

And we clomb up and saw, and shouted strong 'Salve Regina!' all the ropes along, But knew at morn how that a counterfeit band Of level clouds had aped a silver strand; So when we heard the orchard-bird's small song, And all the people cried, 'A h.e.l.lish throng To tempt us onward by the Devil planned, Yea, all from h.e.l.l -- keen heron, fresh green weeds, Pelican, tunny-fish, fair tapering reeds, Lie-telling lands that ever s.h.i.+ne and die In clouds of nothing round the empty sky.

Tired Admiral, get thee from this h.e.l.l, and rest!' -- 'Steersman,' I said, 'hold straight into the West.'

VIII.

"I marvel how mine eye, ranging the Night, From its big circling ever absently Returns, thou large low Star, to fix on thee.

'Maria!' Star? No star: a Light, a Light!

Wouldst leap ash.o.r.e, Heart? Yonder burns -- a Light.

Pedro Gutierrez, wake! come up to me.

I prithee stand and gaze about the sea: What seest? 'Admiral, like as land -- a Light!'

Well! Sanchez of Segovia, come and try: What seest? 'Admiral, naught but sea and sky!'

Well! But *I* saw It. Wait! the Pinta's gun!

Why, look, 'tis dawn, the land is clear: 'tis done!

Two dawns do break at once from Time's full hand -- G.o.d's, East -- mine, West: good friends, behold my Land!"

Master, Master! faster fly Now the hurrying seasons by; Now the Sea of Darkness wide Rolls in light from side to side; Mark, slow drifting to the West Down the trough and up the crest, Yonder piteous heartsease petal Many-motioned rise and settle -- Petal cast a-sea from land By the awkward-fingered Hand That, mistaking Nature's course, Tears the love it fain would force -- Petal calm of heartsease flower Smiling sweet on tempest sour, Smiling where by crest and trough Heartache Winds at heartsease scoff, Breathing mild perfumes of prayer 'Twixt the scolding sea and air.

Mayflower, piteous Heartsease Petal!

Suavely down the sea-troughs settle, Gravely breathe perfumes of prayer 'Twixt the scolding sea and air, Bravely up the sea-hills rise -- Sea-hills slant thee toward the skies.

Master, hold disaster off From the crest and from the trough; Heartsease, on the heartache sea G.o.d, thy G.o.d, will pilot thee.

Mayflower, s.h.i.+p of Faith's best Hope!

Thou art sure if all men grope; Mayflower, s.h.i.+p of Hope's best Faith!

All is true the great G.o.d saith; Mayflower, s.h.i.+p of Charity!

Love is Lord of land and sea.

Oh, with love and love's best care Thy large G.o.dly freightage bear -- G.o.dly Hearts that, Grails of gold, Still the blood of Faith do hold.

Now bold Ma.s.sachusetts clear Cuts the rounding of the sphere.

'Out the anchor, sail no more, Lay us by the Future's sh.o.r.e -- Not the sh.o.r.e we sought, 'tis true, But the time is come to do.

Leap, dear Standish, leap and wade; Bradford, Hopkins, Tilley, wade: Leap and wade ash.o.r.e and kneel -- G.o.d be praised that steered the keel!

Home is good and soft is rest, Even in this jagged West: Freedom lives, and Right shall stand; Blood of Faith is in the land.'

Then in what time the primal icy years Sc.r.a.ped slowly o'er the Puritans' hopes and fears, Like as great glaciers built of frozen tears, The Voice from far within the secret sky Said, 'Blood of Faith ye have? So; let us try.'

And presently The anxious-masted s.h.i.+ps that westward fare, Cargo'd with trouble and a-list with care, Their outraged decks hot back to England bear, Then come again with stowage of worse weight, Battle, and tyrannous Tax, and Wrong, and Hate, And all bad items of Death's perilous freight.

O'er Cambridge set the yeomen's mark: Climb, patriot, through the April dark.

O lanthorn! kindle fast thy light, Thou budding star in the April night, For never a star more news hath told, Or later flame in heaven shall hold.

Ay, lanthorn on the North Church tower, When that thy church hath had her hour, Still from the top of Reverence high Shalt thou illume Fame's ampler sky; For, statured large o'er town and tree, Time's tallest Figure stands by thee, And, dim as now thy wick may s.h.i.+ne The Future lights his lamp at thine.

Now haste thee while the way is clear, Paul Revere!

Haste, Dawes! but haste thou not, O Sun!

To Lexington.

Then Devens looked and saw the light: He got him forth into the night, And watched alone on the river-sh.o.r.e, And marked the British ferrying o'er.

John Parker! rub thine eyes and yawn: But one o'clock and yet 'tis Dawn!

Quick, rub thine eyes and draw thy hose: The Morning comes ere darkness goes.

Have forth and call the yeomen out, For somewhere, somewhere close about Full soon a Thing must come to be Thine honest eyes shall stare to see -- Full soon before thy patriot eyes Freedom from out of a Wound shall rise.

Then haste ye, Prescott and Revere!

Bring all the men of Lincoln here; Let Chelmsford, Littleton, Carlisle, Let Acton, Bedford, hither file -- Oh hither file, and plainly see Out of a wound leap Liberty.

Say, Woodman April! all in green, Say, Robin April! hast thou seen In all thy travel round the earth Ever a morn of calmer birth?