Collected Works (Vol. II)

124 AHAB Hers are the delicate sorceries In black groves: hers the obscure, obscene Rites in dim moonlight courts ; the wise Dreadful occasions when the queen Like to a bat, flits, flits, to gloat Blood-drunk upon a baby’s throat ! Therefore : all doubt, this fierce unrest Between that knowledge self bestows And leaves of palm, and palimpsest, Scrawled sacred scrolls, whose legend goes Beyond recorded time, and founds Its age beyond all history’s bounds ; Therefore: all search for truth beyond The doubtful canon of the law, The bitter letter of the bond Given when Sinai shook with awe, They swear ; all wit that looks aslant Shamed at the shameful covenant ;! ‘Vherefore: this brooding over truth She much avers cuts short my day, Steals love and laughter from my youth, Will dye my beard in early grey. **Go forth to war! Shall Judah still Set mockery to thy kingly will?” May be. I often feel a ghost Creeping like darkness through my brain ; Sensed like uncertainty at most, Nowise akin to fear or pain. Yet it is there. To yield to such And brood, will not avail me much. Ho! harness me my chariot straight, My white-maned horses fleet and strong ! Call forth the trumpeters of state| Proclaim to all Samaria’s throng: The King rides forth! Hence, slaves! Away | Haste ye! The King rides forth to-day. 1 Circumcision, medically commendable, is both ridiculous and obscene if considered asa religious rite. Gen, xvil. 9-14. Part ITI, WOULD God that I were dead! My punishment I cannot bear. There is a deep corrosive pain Invades my being everywhere. Sprung from a seed too small to see, A monster spawns and strangles me. Like Cain, Tis scarce a week! In power and pride I rode in state about the city ; Took pleasure in the eager ride, Saw grief, took pleasure in my pity ; Saw joy, took pleasure in the seeing, And the full rapture of well-being. Would God that I had stayed, and smote My favourite captain through the heart, Caught my young daughter by the throat, And torn her life and limbs apart, Stabbed my queen dead : remorse for these Might ape, not match, these miseries. For, hard behind the palace gate, I spied a vineyard fair and fine, Hanging with purple joy, and weight Of golden rapture of the vine: And there I bade my charioteer Stay, and bid Naboth to appear. The beast! <A gray, deceitful man, With twisted mouth the beard would hide, Evil yet strong: the scurril clan Exaggerate for its greed and pride, The scum of Israel! At one look I read my foe as in a book. The beast ! He grovelled in the dust. I heard the teeth gride as he bowed [lis forehead to the earth. Still just, Still patient, passionless, and proud, I ruled my heavy wrath. I passed That hidden insult: spake at last. I spake him fair. My memory held Him still a member of my folk ; A warrior might be bold of eld, My hardy spearman when we broke The flashing lines of Syrians. Yea! I spake him fair. Alas the day!