Lascelles Abercrombie
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- A quay with vessels moored
- Thomas
- To India! Yea, here I may take ship;
- From here the courses go over the seas,
- Along which the intent prows wonderfully
- Nose like lean hounds, and tack their journeys out,
- Making for harbours as some sleuth was laid
- For them to follow on their shifting road.
- Again I front my appointed ministry. --
- But why the Indian lot to me? Why mine
- Such fearful gospelling? For the Lord knew
- What a frail soul He gave me, and a heart
- Lame and unlikely for the large events. --
- And this is worse than Baghdad! though that was
- A fearful brink of travel. But if the lots,
- That gave to me the Indian duty, were
- Shuffled by the unseen skill of Heaven, surely
- That fear of mine in Baghdad was the same
- Marvellous Hand working again, to guard
- The landward gate of India from me. There
- I stood, waiting in the weak early dawn
- To start my journey; the great caravan's
- Strange cattle with their snoring breaths made steam
- Upon the air, and (as I thought) sadly
- The beasts at market-booths and awnings gay
- Of shops, the city's comfortable trade,
- Lookt, and then into months of plodding lookt.
- And swiftly on my brain there came a wind
- Of vision; and I saw the road mapt out
- Along the desert with a chalk of bones;
- I saw a famine and the Afghan greed
- Waiting for us, spears at our throats, all we
- Made women by our hunger; and I saw
- Gigantic thirst grieving our mouths with dust,
- Scattering up against our breathing salt
- Of blown dried dung, till the taste eat like fires
- Of a wild vinegar into our sheathèd marrows;
- And a sudden decay thicken'd all our bloods
- As rotten leaves in fall will baulk a stream;
- Then my kill'd life the muncht food of jackals. --
- The wind of vision died in my brain; and lo,
- The jangling of the caravan's long gait
- Was small as the luting of a breeze in grass
- Upon my ears. Into the waiting thirst
- Camels and merchants all were gone, while I
- Had been in my amazement. Was this not
- A sign? God with a vision tript me, lest
- Those tall fiends that ken for my approach
- In middle Asia, Thirst and his grisly band
- Of plagues, should with their brigand fingers stop
- His message in my mouth. Therefore I said,
- If India is the place where I must preach,
- I am to go by ship, not overland.
- And here my ship is berthed. But worse, far worse
- Than Baghdad, is this roadstead, the brown sails,
- All the enginery of going on sea,
- The tackle and the rigging, tholes and sweeps,
- The prows built to put by the waves, the masts
- Stayed for a hurricane; and lo, that line
- Of gilded water there! the sun has drawn
- In a long narrow band of shining oil
- His light over the sea; how evilly move
- Ripples along that golden skin! -- the gleam
- Works like a muscular thing! like the half-gorged
- Sleepy swallowing of a serpent's neck.
- The sea lives, surely! My eyes swear to it;
- And, like a murderous smile that glimpses through
- A villain's courtesy, that twitching dazzle
- Parts the kind mood of weather to bewray
- The feasted waters of the sea, stretched out
- In lazy gluttony, expecting prey.
- How fearful is this trade of sailing! Worse
- Than all land-evils is the water-way
- Before me now. -- What, cowardice? Nay, why
- Trouble myself with ugly words? 'Tis prudence,
- And prudence is an admirable thing.
- Yet here's much cost -- these packages piled up,
- Ivory doubless, emeralds, gums, and silks,
- All these they trust on shipboard? Ah, but I,
- I who have seen God, I to put myself
- Amid the heathen outrage of the sea
- In a deal-wood box! It were plain folly.
- There is naught more precious in the world than I:
- I carry God in me, to give to men.
- And when has the sea been friendly unto man?
- Let it but guess my errand, it will call
- The dangers of the air to wreak upon me,
- Winds to juggle the puny boat and pinch
- The water into unbelievable creases.
- And shall my soul, and God in my soul, drown?
- Or venture drowning? -- But no, no; I am safe.
- Smooth as believing souls over their deaths
- And over agonies shall slide henceforth
- To God, so shall my way be blest amid
- The quiet crouching terrors of the sea,
- Like panthers when a fire weakens their hearts;
- Ay, this huge sin of nature, the salt sea,
- Shall be afraid of me, and of the mind
- Within me, that with gesture, speech and eyes
- Of the Messiah flames. What element
- Dare snarl against my going, what incubus dare
- Remember to be fiendish, when I light
- My whole being with memory of Him?
- The malice of the sea will slink from me,
- And the air be harmless as a muzzled wolf;
- For I am a torch, and the flame of me is God.
- A Ship's Captain
- You are my man, my passenger?
- Thomas I am.
- I go to India with you.
- Captain Well, I hope so.
- There's threatening in the weather. Have you a mind
- To hug your belly to the slanted deck,
- Like a louse on a whip-top, when the boat
- Spins on an axle in the hissing gales?
- Thomas
- Fear not. 'Tis likely indeed that storms are now
- Plotting against our voyage; ay, no doubt
- The very bottom of the sea prepares
- To stand up mountainous or reach a limb
- Out of his night of water and huge shingles,
- That he and the waves may break our keel. Fear not;
- Like those who manage horses, I've a word
- Will fasten up within their evil natures
- The meanings of the winds and waves and reefs.
- Captain
- You have a talisman? I have one too;
- I know not if the storms think much of it.
- I may be shark's meat yet. And would your spell
- Be daunting to a cuttle, think you now?
- We had a bout with one on our way here;
- It had green lidless eyes like lanterns, arms
- As many as the branches of a tree,
- But limber, and each one of them wise as a snake.
- It laid hold of our bulwarks, and with three
- Long knowing arms, slimy, and of a flesh
- So tough they'ld fool a hatchet, searcht the ship,
- And stole out of the midst of us all a man;
- Yes, and he the proudest man upon the seas
- For the rare powerful talisman he'd got.
- And would yours have done better?
- Thomas I am one
- Not easily frightened. I'm for India.
- You will not put me from my way with talk.
- Captain
- My heart, I never thought of frightening you. --
- Well, here's both tide and wind, and we may not start.
- Thomas
- Not start? I pray you, do.
- Captain It's no use praying;
- I dare not. I've not half my cargo yet.
- Thomas
- What do you wait for, then?
- Captain A carpenter.
- Thomas
- You are talking strangely.
- Captain But not idly.
- I might as well broach all my blood at once,
- Here as I stand, as sail to India back
- Without a carpenter on board; -- O strangely
- Wise are our kings in the killing of men!
- Thomas
- But does your king then need a carpenter?
-
- Captain
- Yes, for he dreamed a dream; and like a man
- Who, having eaten poison, and with all
- Force of his life turned out the crazing drug,
- Has only a weak and wrestled nature left
- That gives in foolishly to some bad desire
- A healthy man would laught at; so our king
- Is left desiring by his venomous dream.
- But, being a king, the whole land aches with him.
-
- Thomas
- What dream was that?
- Captain A palace made of souls; --
- Ay, there's a folly for a man to dream!
- He saw a palace covering all the land,
- Big as the day itself, made of a stone
- That answered with a better gleam than glass
- To the sun's greeting, fashioned like the sound
- Of laughter copied into shining shape:
- So the king said. And with him in the dream
- There was a voice that fleered upon the king:
- 'This is the man who makes much of himself
- For filling the common eyes with palaces
- Gorgeously bragging out his royalty:
- Whereas he hath not one that seemeth not
- In work, in height, in posture on the ground,
- A hut, a peasant's dingy shed, to mine.
- And all his excellent woods, metals, and stones,
- The things he's filched out of the earth's old pockets
- And hoisted up into walls and domes; the gold,
- Ebony, agate stairs, wainscots of jade,
- The windows of jargoon, and heavenly lofts
- Of marble, all the stuff he takes to be wealth,
- Reckons like savage mud and wattle against
- The matter of my building.' -- And the king,
- Gloating upon the white sheen of that palace,
- And weeping like a girl ashamed, inquired
- 'What is that stone?' And the voice answered him,
- 'Soul.' 'But in my palaces too,' said he,
- 'There should be soul built: I have driven nations,
- What with quarrying, what with craning, down
- To death, and sure their souls stay in my work.'
- And 'Mud and wattle' sneered the voice again;
- But added, 'In the west there is a man,
- A slave, a carpenter, whose heart has been
- Apprenticed to the skill that built my reign,
- This beauty; and were he master of your gangs,
- He'ld build you a palace that would look like mine.' --
- So now no ship may sail from India,
- Since the king's scornful dream, unless it bring
- A carpenter among its homeward lading:
- And carpenters are getting hard to find.
- Thomas
- And have none made for the king his desire?
- Captain
- Many have tried, with roasting living men
- In queer huge kilns, and other sleights, to found
- A glass of human souls; and others seek
- With marvellous stone to please our desperate king.
- Always at last their own tormented bodies
- Delight the cruelty of the king's heart.
- Thomas
- Well then, I hope you'll find your carpenter,
- And soon. I would not that we wait too long;
- I loathe a dallying journey. -- I should suppose
- We'ld have good sailing at this season, now?
- Captain
- Why, you were looking, a few minutes gone,
- For rare wild storms: I hope we'll have them too;
- I want to see you work that talisman
- You boast about: I've a great love for spells.
- Thomas
- Let it be storm or calm, so we be sailing.
- I long have wished to voyage into mid sea,
- To give my senses rest from wondering
- On this preplexèd grammar of the land
- Written in men and women, the strange trees,
- Herbs, and those things so like to souls, the beasts.
- My wilful senses will keep perilously
- Employed with these my brain, and weary it
- Still to be asking. But on the high seas
- Such throng'd reality is left behind, --
- Only vast air and water, and the hue
- That always seems like special news of God.
- Surely 'tis half way to eternity
- To go where only size and colour live;
- And I could purify my mind from all
- Worldly amazement by imagining
- Beyond my senses into God's great Heaven,
- If I were in mid sea. I have dreamed of this.
- Wondrous too, I think, to sail at night
- While shoals of moonlight flickers dance beside,
- Like swimming glee of fishes scaled in gold,
- Curvetting in thwart bounds over the swell;
- The perceiving flesh, in bliss of such a beauty,
- Must sure feel fine as spiritual sight. --
- Moods have been on me, too, when I would be
- Sailing recklessly through wild darkness, where
- Gigantic whispers of a harassed sea
- Fill the whole world of air, and I stand up
- To breast the danger of the loosen'd sky,
- And feel my immortality like music, --
- Yea, I alone in the broken world, firm things
- All gone to monstrous flurry, knowing myself
- An indestructible word spoken by God. --
- This is a small, small boat?
- Captain Small is nothing,
- A bucket will do, so it know how to ride
- Top upward: cleverness is the thing in boats.
- And I wish this were cleverer: she goes crank
- At times just when she should go sober.
- But what? Boats are but girls for whimsies: men
- Must let them have their freaks.
- Thomas Have you good skill
- In seamanship?
- Captain Well, I am not drowned yet,
- Though I'm a grey man and have been at sea
- Longer than you've been walking. My old sight
- Can tell Mizar from Alcor still.
- Thomas Ay, so;
- Doubtless you'll bring me safe to India.
- But being there -- tell me now of the land:
- How use they strangers there?
- Captain Queerly, sometimes
- If the king's moody, and tired of feeling nerves
- Mildly made happy with soft jewels of silk,
- Odours and wines and slim lascivious girls,
- And yearns for sharper thrills to pierce his brain,
- He often finds a stranger handy then.
- Thomas
- Why, what do you mean?
- Captain There was a merchant came
- To Travancore, and could not speak our talk;
- And, it chanced, he was brought before the throne
- Just when the king was weary of sweet pleasures.
- So, to better his tongue, a rope was bent
- Beneath his oxters, up he was hauled, and fire
- Let singe the soles of his feet, until his legs
- Wriggled like frying eels; then the king's dogs
- Were set to hunt the hirpling man. The king
- Laught greatly and cried, 'But give the dogs words they know,
- And they'll be tame.' -- Have you the Indian speech?
- Thomas
- Not yet: it will be given me, I trust.
- Captain
- You'd best make sure of the gift. Another stranger,
- Who swore he knew of better gods than ours,
- Seemed to the king troubled with fleas, and slaves
- Were told to groom him smartly, which they did
- Thoroughly with steel combs, until at last
- They curried the living flesh from his bones
- And stript his face of gristle, till he was
- Skull and half skeleton and yet alive.
- You're not for dealing in new gods?
- Thomas Not I.
- Was the man killed?
- Captain He lived a little while;
- But the flies killed him.
- Thomas Flies? I hope India
- Is not a fly-plagued land? I abhor flies.
- Captain
- You will see strange ones, for our Indian life
- Hath wonderful fierce breeding. Common earth
- With us quickens to buzzing flights of wings
- As readily as a week-old carcase here
- Thrown in a sunny marsh. Why, we have wasps
- That make your hornets seem like pretty midges;
- And there be flies in India will drink
- Not only blood of bulls, tigers, and bears,
- But pierce the river-horses' creasy leather,
- Ay, worry crocodiles through their cuirasses
- And prick the metal fishes when they bask.
- You'll feel them soon, with beaks like sturdy pins,
- Treating their stinging thirsts with your best blood.
- A man can't walk a mile in India
- Without being the business of a throng'd
- And moving town of flies; they hawk at a man
- As bold as little eagles, and as wild.
- And, I suppose, only a fool will blame them.
- Flies have the right to sink wells in our skin
- All as men to bore parcht earth for water.
- But I must do a job on board, and then
- Search the town afresh for a carpenter.
- Thomas (alone)
- Ay, loose tongue, I know how thou art prompted.
- Satan's cunning device thou art, to sap
- My heart with chatter'd fears. How easy it is
- For a stiff mind to hold itself upright
- Against the cords of devilish suggestion
- Tackled about it, though kept downward strained
- With sly, masterful winches made of fear.
- Yea, when the mind is warned what engines mean
- To ply it into grovelling, and thought set firm,
- The tugging strings fail like a cobweb-stuff.
- Not as in Baghdad is it with me now;
- Nor canst thou, Satan, by a prating mouth,
- Fell my tall purpose to a flatlong scorn.
- I can divide the check of God's own hand
- From tempting such as this: India is mine! --
- Ay, fiend, and if thou utter thy storming heart
- Into the ocean sea, as into mob
- A rebel utters turbulence and rage,
- And raise before my path swelling barriers
- Of hatred soul'd in water, yet will I strike
- My purpose, and God's purpose, clean through all
- The ridges of thy power. And I will show
- This mask that the devil wears, this old shipman,
- A thing to make his proud heart of evil
- Writhe like a trodden snake; yea, he shall see
- How godly faith can go upon the huge Fury of forces bursting out of law,
- Easily as a boy goes on windy grass. --
- O marvel! that my little life of mind
- Can by mere thinking the unsizeable
- Creatures of sea enslave! I must believe it.
- The mind hath many powers beyond name
- Deep womb'd within it, and can shoot strange vigours:
- Men there have been who could so grimly look
- That soldiers' hearts went out like candle flames
- Before their eyes, and the blood perisht in them. --
- But I -- could I do that? Would I not feel
- The power in me if 'twas there? And yet
- 'Twere a child's game to what I have to do,
- For days and days with sleepless faith oppress
- And terrorise the demon sea. I think
- A man might, as I saw my Master once,
- Pass unharmed through a storm of men, yet fail
- At this that lies before me: men are mind,
- And mind can conquer mind; but how can it quell
- The unappointed purpose of great waters? --
- Well, say the sea is past: why, then, I have
- My feet but on the threshold of my task,
- To gospel India, -- my single heart
- To seize into the order of its beat
- All the strange blood of India, my brain
- To lord the dark thought of that tann'd mankind! --
- O, horrible those sweltry places are,
- Where the sun comes so close, it makes the earth
- Burn in a frenzy of breeding, -- smoke and flame
- Of lives burning up from agoniz'd loam!
- Those monstrous sappy jungles of clutcht growth,
- What can such fearful increase have to do
- With prospering bounty? A rage works in the ground,
- Incurably, like frantic lechery,
- Pouring its passion out in crops and spawns.
- 'Tis as the mighty spirit of life, that here
- Walketh beautifully praising, glad of God,
- Should, stepping on the poison'd Indian shore,
- Breathing the Indian air of fire snd steams,
- Fling herself into a craze of hideous dancing,
- The green gown whipping her swift limbs, all her body
- Writhen to speak inutterable desire,
- Tormented by a glee of hating God.
- Nay, it must be, to visit India,
- That frantic pomp and hurrying forth of life,
- As if a man should enter at unawares
- The dreaming mind of Satan, gorgeously
- Imagining his eternal hell of lust. --
- They say the land is full of apes, which have
- Their own gods and worship: how ghastly, this! --
- That demons (for it must be so) should build,
- In mockery of man's upward faith, the souls
- Of monkeys, those lewd mammets of mankind,
- Into a dreadful farce of adoration!
- And flies! a land of flies! where the hot soil
- Foul with ceaseless decay steams into flies!
- So thick they pile themselves in the air above
- Their meal of filth, they seem like breathing heaps
- Of formless life mounded upon the earth;
- And buzzing always like the pipes and strings
- Of solemn music made for sorcerers. --
- I abhor flies, -- to see them stare upon me
- Out of their little faces of gibbous eyes;
- To feel the dry cool skin of their bodies alight
- Perching upon my lips! -- O yea, a dream,
- A dream of impious obscene Satan, this
- Monstrous frenzy of life, the Indian being!
- And there are men in the dream! What men are they?
- I've heard, naught relishes their brains so much
- As to tie down a man and tease his flesh
- Infamously, until a hundred pains
- Hound the desiring life out of his body,
- Filling his nerves with such a fearful zest
- That the soul overstrained shatters beneath it.
- Must I preach God to these murderous hearts?
- I would my lot had fallen to go and dare
- Death from the silent dealing of Northern cold! --
- O, but I would face all these Indian fears,
- The horror of the huge power of life,
- The beasts all fierce and venomous, the men
- With cruel souls, learned to invent pain,
- All these and more, if I had any hope
- That, braving them, Lord Christ prosper'd through me.
- If Christ desired India, He had sent
- The band of us, solder'd in one great purpose,
- To strike His message through those dark vast tribes.
- But one man! -- O surely it is folly,
- And we misread the lot! One man, to thrust,
- Even though in his soul the lamp was kindled
- At God's own hands, one man's lit soul to thrust
- The immense Indian darkness out of the world!
- For human flesh there breeds as furiously
- As the green things and the cattle; and it is all,
- All this enormity of measureless folk,
- Penn'd in a land so close to the devil's reign
- The very apes have faith in him. -- No, no;
- Impetuous brains mistake the signs of God
- Too easily. God would not have me waste
- My zeal for Him in this wild enterprise,
- Of going alone to swarming India; -- one man,
- One mortal voice, to charm those myriad ears
- Away from the fiendish clamour of Indian gods,
- One man preaching the truth against the huge
- Bray of the gongs and horns of the Indian priests!
- A cup of wine poured in the sea were not
- More surely lost in the green and brackish depths,
- Than the fire and fragrance of my doctrine poured
- Into that multitudinous pond of men,
- India. -- Shipman! Master of the ship! --
- I have thought better of this journey; now
- I find I am not meant to go.
- Captain Not meant?
- Thomas
- I would say, I had forgotten Indian air
- Is full of fevers; and my health is bad
- For holding out against fever.
- Captain As you please.
- I keep your fare, though.
- Thomas O, 'tis yours. -- Good sailing!
- As he makes to depart, a Noble Stranger is seen approaching along the quay.
- Captain
- Well, here's a marvel: 'Tis a king, for sure!
- 'Twould take the taxes of a world to dress
- A man in that silken gold, and all those gems.
- What a flash the light makes of him, nay, he burns;
- And he's here on the quay all by himself,
- Not even a slave to fan him! -- Man, you're ailing!
- You look like death; is it the falling sickness?
- Or has the mere thought of the Indian journey
- Made your marrow quail with a cold fever?
- The Stranger (to the Captain)
- You are the master of this ship?
- Captain I am.
- Stranger
- This huddled man belongs to me: a slave
- Escaped my service.
- Captain Lord, I knew not that.
- But you are in good time.
- Stranger And was the slave
- For putting out with you? Where are your bound?
- Captain
- To India. First he would sail, and then
- Again he would not. But, my Lord, I swear
- I never guesst he was a runaway.
- Stranger
- Well, he shall have his mind and go with you
- To India: a good slave he is, but bears
- A restless thought. He has slipt off before,
- And vexes me still to be watching him.
- We'll make a bargain of him.
- Captain I, my Lord?
- I have no need of slaves: I am too poor.
- Stranger
- For twenty silver pieces he is yours.
- Captain
- That's cheap, if he has a skill. Yes, there might be
- Profit in him at that. Has he a trade?
- Stranger
- He is a carpenter.
- Captain A carpenter!
- Why, for a good one I'ld give all my purse.
- Stranger
- No, twenty silver pieces is the price;
- Though 'tis a slave a king might joy to own.
- I've taught him to imagine palaces
- So high, and tower'd so nobly, they might seem
- The marvelling of a God-delighted heart
- Escaping into ecstasy; he knows,
- Moreover, of a stuff so rare it makes
- Smaragdus and the dragon-stone despised;
- And yet the quarries whereof he is wise
- Would yield enough to house the tribes of the world
- In palaces of beautiful shining work.
- Captain
- Lo there! why, that is it: the carpenter
- I am to bring is needed for to build
- The king's new palace.
- Stranger Yea? He is your man.
- Captain
- Come on, my man. I'll put your cunning heels
- Where they'll not budge more than a shuffled inch.
- My lord, if you'll bide with the rascal here
- I'll get the irons ready. Here's your sum. --
- Stranger
- Now, Thomas, know thy sin. It was not fear;
- Easily may a man crouch down for fear,
- And yet rise up on firmer knees, and face
- The hailing storm of the world with graver courage.
- But prudence, prudence is the deadly sin,
- And one that groweth deep into a life,
- With hardening roots that clutch about the breast.
- For this refuses faith in the unknown powers
- Within man's nature; shrewdly bringeth all
- Their inspiration of strange eagerness
- To a judgment bought by safe experience;
- Narrows desire into the scope of thought.
- But it is written in the heart of man,
- Thou shalt no larger be than thy desire.
- Thou must not therefore stoop thy spirit's sight
- To pore only within the candle-gleam
- Of conscious wit and reasonable brain;
- But search into the sacred darkness lying
- Outside thy knowledge of thyself, the vast
- Measureless fate, full of the power of stars,
- The outer noiseless heavens of thy soul.
- Keep thy desire closed in the room of light
- The labouring fires of thy mind have made,
- And thou shalt find the vision of thy spirit
- Pitifully dazzled to so shrunk a ken,
- There are no spacious puissances about it.
- But send desire often forth to scan
- The immense night which is thy greater soul;
- Knowing the possible, see thou try beyond it
- Into impossible things, unlikely ends;
- And thou shalt find thy knowledgeable desire
- Grow large as all the regions of thy soul,
- Whose firmament doth cover the whole of Being,
- And of created purpose reach the ends.
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