BYRON AND THE ANGEL

_Poet:_

"Why this fever--why this sighing?--

Why this restless longing--dying

For--a something--dreamy something,

Undefined, and yet defying

All the pride and power of manhood?

"O these years of sin and sorrow!

Smiling while the iron harrow

Of a keen and biting longing

Tears and quivers in the marrow

Of my being every moment--

Of my very inmost being.

"What to me the mad ambition

For men's praise and proud position--

Struggling, fighting to the summit

Of its vain and earthly mission,

To lie down on bed of ashes--

Bed of barren, bitter ashes?

"Cure this fever? I have tried it;

Smothered, drenched it and defied it

With a will of brass and iron;

Every smile and look denied it;

Yet it heeded not denying,

And it mocks at my defying

While my very soul is dying.

"Is there balm in Gilead?--tell me!

Nay--no balm to soothe and quell me?

Must I tremble in this fever?

Death, O lift thy hand and fell me;

Let me sink to rest forever

Where this burning cometh never.

"Sometimes when this restless madness

Softens down to mellow sadness,

I look back on sun-lit valleys

Where my boyish heart of gladness

Nestled without pain or longing--

Nestled softly in a vision

Full of love and hope's fruition,

Lulled by morning songs of spring-time.

"Then I ponder, and I wonder

Was some heart-chord snapped asunder

When the threads were soft and silken?

Did some fatal boyish blunder

Plant a canker in my bosom

That hath ever burned and rankled?

"O this thirsting, thirsting hanker!

O this burning, burning canker'

Driving Peace and Hope to shipwreck--

Without rudder, without anchor,

On the reef-rocks of Damnation!"

_Invisible Angel:_

"Jesus--Son of Virgin Mary;

Lift the burden from the weary:

Pity, Jesus, and anoint him

With the holy balm of Gilead."

_Poet:_

"Yea, Christ Jesus, pour thy blessings

On these terrible heart-pressings:

O I bless thee, unseen Angel;

Lead me--teach me, holy Spirit."

_Angel:_

"There is balm in Gilead!

There is balm in Gilead!

Peace awaits thee with caressings--

Sitting at the feet of Jesus--

At the right-hand of Jehovah--

At the blessed feet of Jesus;--Alleluia!"

The Feast of the Virgins and Other Poems · 第 33 / 104 题