Collected Works (Vol. II)

AHAB 125 ‘* Friend, by my palace lies thy field Fruitful and pleasant to the sight. Therefore I pray thee that thou yield Thy heritage for my delight. Wilt thou its better? Or its fee In gold, as seemeth good to thee? ‘* Content thyself!” As by a spell He rears his bulk in surly rage. ‘¢ The Lord forbid that I should sell To thee my father’s heritage !” No other word. Dismissal craves?! Nay, scowls and slinks among his slaves. Hath ever a slave in story dared Thus to beard openly his lord? My chariot men leapt forth and flared Against him with indignant sword. Why wait for king’s word to expunge Life so detested with one lunge? “Cease!” My strong word flamed out. The men Shook with dead fear. caught With savage instinct, brutal ken, At what should be my crueller thought : Torture! And trembled lest their haste Had let a dear life run to waste. They jumped and They argued after their brute kind. I have two prides ; in justice, one: In mercy, one: ‘‘ No ill I find In this just man,” I cried; ‘‘the sun Is not defiled, and takes no hurt When the worm builds his house of dirt. ‘Curse ye Jehovah! He abides, Hears not, nor smites; the curse is pent Close with the speaker; ill betides When on himself the curve is bent, And like the wild man’s il]-aimed blow,? Hlits nought, swerves, swoops, and strikes him low. 1 In the East the inferior dare not leave the presence of his superior without permission. 2 Another reference to the boomerang. ‘* Let the man go!”’ The short surprise Sinks in long wonder: angrily Yet awed they spurn him forth. ‘‘ Arise ! O swine, and wallow in thy sty! The King hath said it.” Thus the men Turned the beast free—to goad again. For now the little shadow shaves An image ever in my brain ; Across my field of sight there gapes Ever a gulf, and draws the pain Of the whole knowledge of the man Into its vague and shifting span. Moreover, in that gulf I see Now the bright vineyard sweet and clean, Now the dog Naboth mocking me With rude curt word and mouth obscene Wried in derisidn—well relied Dog's insoleneéson monarch’s pride. Ah, friend! Some winds may shake a city ! Some dogs may creep too near a feast ! Thou, reckoning on my scorn, my pity, Thine own uncleanness as a beast : Wilt thou not take thy count again? Seest thou the shadow on my brain? It grows, it grows. Seven days slide past : I groan upon an empty bed: I turn my face away: I fast : There cometh in my mouth no bread. No man dare venture near to say: ‘“ Why turns the King his face away ?” It grows. Ah me! the long days slide ; I brood ; due justice to the man Dogging desire. A monarch’s pride Outweighs his will: yet slowlier ran To-day the thought: ‘*T will no wrong : ‘The vines are cool,” more sweet and strong 2? There is no sleep. All natural laws suspend their function : strange effects And mighty for so slight a cause! What whim of weakling strength protects This dog of Satan at my gate From the full whirlwind of my hate?