For as I lie here, hours of the dead night,
Dying in state and by such slow degrees,
I fold my arms as if they clasped a crook,
And stretch my feet forth straight as stone can point,
And let the bedclothes, for a mortcloth, drop
Into great laps and folds of sculptor's work:
And as yon tapers dwindle, and strange thoughts
Grow, with a certain humming in my ears,
About the life before I lived this life,
And this life too, popes, cardinals and priests,
Saint Praxed at his sermon on the mount,
Your tall pale mother with her talking eyes,
And new-found agate urns as fresh as day,
And marble's language, Latin pure, discreet,
-Aha, ELUCESCEBAT quoth our friend?
No Tully, said I, Ulpian at the best!
Evil and brief hath been my pilgrimage.
All lapis, all, sons! Else I give the Pope
My villas! Will ye ever eat my heart?
Ever your eyes were as a lizard's quick,
They glitter like your mother's for my soul,
Or ye would heighten my impoverished frieze,
Piece out its starved design, and fill my vase
With grapes, and add a vizor and a Term,
And to the tripod ye would tie a lynx
That in his struggle throws the thyrsus down,
To comfort me on my entablature

Whereon I am to lie till I must ask

"Do I live, am I dead?" There, leave me, there! For ye have stabbed me with ingratitude

To death-ye wish it—God, ye wish it! Stone—
Gritstone, a-crumble! Clammy squares which sweat
As if the corpse they keep were oozing through—
And no more lapis to delight the world!

Well go! I bless ye. Fewer tapers there,
But in a row and, going, turn your backs
-Ay, like departing altar-ministrants,

And leave me in my church, the church for peace,
That I may watch at leisure if he leers-
Old Gandolf, at me, from his onion-stone,
As still he envied me, so fair she was!

RABBI BEN EZRA

Grow old along with me!

The best is yet to be,

The last of life, for which the first was made:

Our times are in His hand

Who saith "A whole I planned,

"Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor

be afraid!"

Not that, amassing flowers,

Youth sighed "Which rose make ours,
Which lily leave and then as best recall?"
Not that, admiring stars,

It yearned "Nor Jove, nor Mars;

Mine be some figured flame which blends, transcends them all!"

Not for such hopes and fears
Annulling youth's brief years,

Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark!

Rather I prize the doubt

Low kinds exist without,

Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a

spark.

Poor vaunt of life indeed,

Were man but formed to feed

On joy, to solely seek and find and feast:

Such feasting ended, then

As sure an end to men ;

Irks care the crop-full bird? Frets doubt the maw-crammed beast?

Rejoice we are allied

To That which doth provide

And not partake, effect and not receive!

A spark disturbs our clod;

Nearer we hold of God

Who gives, than of His tribes that take, I must believe.

Then, welcome each rebuff

That turns earth's smoothness rough,

Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go!
Be our joys three-parts pain!

Strive, and hold cheap the strain ;

Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge

the throe!

For thence, a paradox

Which comforts while it mocks,

Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail :

What I aspired to be,

And was not, comforts me:

A brute I might have been, but would not sink,

i' the scale.

What is he but a brute

Whose flesh hath soul to suit,

Whose spirit works lest arms and legs want

play?

To man, propose this test

Thy body at its best,

How far can that project thy soul on its lone

way?

Yet gifts should prove their use :

I own the Past profuse

Of power each side, perfection every turn :

Eyes, ears took in their dole,

Brain treasured up the whole;

Should not the heart beat once 66

How good to

live and learn?"

Not once beat "Praise be Thine!

I see the whole design,

I, who saw power, see now Love perfect too :
Perfect I call Thy plan :

Thanks that I was a man!

Maker, remake, complete,-I trust what Thou

shalt do!"

For pleasant is this flesh;

Our soul, in its rose-mesh.

Pulled ever to the earth, still yearns for rest:

Would we some prize might hold

To match those manifold

Possessions of the brute,-gain most, as we did

best!