Why Jesus Wept

WHY JESUS WEPT 13 On the mountain, and destroyed my peace ? O the misery of this world ; the fear And folly that is unattained desire ! I would be master : I, the lord of Greece : I the bright Deva of the golden sphere ; I the swift spirit of the primal fire : — All these I am, not will be. O blind ape ! All these are shapeless ; thou art but a shape, A blind, bad-blooded bat ! Ugh ! Ugh ! The snake Wriggling to death amid his burning brake Is wiser, holier, lordlier. Open, page Of the old Rabbi ! tell me of the mage ; Of him who would ; of him who dared and did ; Of him who feared and failed ; of him who fell ; One peering lightwards through a coffin-lid, One aching heavenwards — and achieving hell ! O let me do and die as they ! The wand, The lamp, the sword, come eager to my hand ; — Or, if I wander now upon the moor, An old red-hatted witch will come, for sure, And teach me how the dragon deeds are done, Or truck my spirit to the Evil One ; Or else, — I wot not what. I am drunk with will, Will toward some destiny most high, most holy ! Some of those glories sung with awful skill By the loud brabble of the monster Crowley, That poet of the muck-heap ! Oh, enough ! The wind is harsh and vital on the hills. Forth let me fare ! I am other than the stuff