The Germ Part 20

She bound her hair up from the floor, And pa.s.sed in silence from the door.

So they went forth together, he Helping her forward tenderly.

The hedges bowed beneath his hand; Forth from the streams came the dry land As they pa.s.sed over; evermore The pallid moonbeams shone before; And the wind hushed, and nothing stirred; Not even a solitary bird, Scared by their footsteps, fluttered by Where aspen-trees stood steadily.

As they went on, at length a sound Came trembling on the air around; The undistinguishable hum Of life, voices that go and come Of busy men, and the child's sweet High laugh, and noise of trampling feet.

Then he said: "Wilt thou go and see?"

And she made answer joyfully; "The noise of life, of human life, Of dear communion without strife, Of converse held 'twixt friend and friend; Is it not here our path shall end?"

He led her on a little way Until they reached a hillock: "Stay."

It was a village in a plain.

High mountains screened it from the rain And stormy wind; and nigh at hand A bubbling streamlet flowed, o'er sand Pebbly and fine, and sent life up Green succous stalk and flower-cup.

Gradually, day's harbinger, A chilly wind began to stir.

It seemed a gentle powerless breeze That scarcely rustled thro' the trees; And yet it touched the mountain's head And the paths man might never tread.

But hearken: in the quiet weather Do all the streams flow down together?-- No, 'tis a sound more terrible Than tho' a thousand rivers fell.

The everlasting ice and snow Were loosened then, but not to flow;-- With a loud crash like solid thunder The avalanche came, burying under The village; turning life and breath And rest and joy and plans to death.

"Oh! let us fly, for pity fly; Let us go hence, friend, thou and I.

There must be many regions yet Where these things make not desolate."

He looked upon her seriously; Then said: "Arise and follow me."

The path that lay before them was Nigh covered over with long gra.s.s; And many slimy things and slow Trailed on between the roots below.

The moon looked dimmer than before; And shadowy cloudlets floating o'er Its face sometimes quite hid its light, And filled the skies with deeper night.

At last, as they went on, the noise Was heard of the sea's mighty voice; And soon the ocean could be seen In its long restlessness serene.

Upon its breast a vessel rode That drowsily appeared to nod As the great billows rose and fell, And swelled to sink, and sank to swell.

Meanwhile the strong wind had come forth From the chill regions of the North, The mighty wind invisible.

And the low waves began to swell; And the sky darkened overhead; And the moon once looked forth, then fled Behind dark clouds; while here and there The lightning shone out in the air; And the approaching thunder rolled With angry pealings manifold.

How many vows were made, and prayers That in safe times were cold and scarce.

Still all availed not; and at length The waves arose in all their strength, And fought against the s.h.i.+p, and filled The s.h.i.+p. Then were the clouds unsealed, And the rain hurried forth, and beat On every side and over it.

Some clung together, and some kept A long stern silence, and some wept.

Many half-crazed looked on in wonder As the strong timbers rent asunder; Friends forgot friends, foes fled to foes;-- And still the water rose and rose.

"Ah woe is me! Whom I have seen Are now as tho' they had not been.

In the earth there is room for birth, And there are graves enough in earth; Why should the cold sea, tempest-torn, Bury those whom it hath not borne?"

He answered not, and they went on.

The glory of the heavens was gone; The moon gleamed not nor any star; Cold winds were rustling near and far, And from the trees the dry leaves fell With a sad sound unspeakable.

The air was cold; till from the South A gust blew hot, like sudden drouth, Into their faces; and a light Glowing and red, shone thro' the night.

A mighty city full of flame And death and sounds without a name.

Amid the black and blinding smoke, The people, as one man, awoke.

Oh! happy they who yesterday On the long journey went away; Whose pallid lips, smiling and chill, While the flames scorch them smile on still; Who murmur not; who tremble not When the bier crackles fiery hot; Who, dying, said in love's increase: "Lord, let thy servant part in peace."

Those in the town could see and hear A shaded river flowing near; The broad deep bed could hardly hold Its plenteous waters calm and cold.

Was flame-wrapped all the city wall, The city gates were flame-wrapped all.

What was man's strength, what puissance then?

Women were mighty as strong men.

Some knelt in prayer, believing still, Resigned unto a righteous will, Bowing beneath the chastening rod, Lost to the world, but found of G.o.d.

Some prayed for friend, for child, for wife; Some prayed for faith; some prayed for life; While some, proud even in death, hope gone, Steadfast and still, stood looking on.

"Death--death--oh! let us fly from death; Where'er we go it followeth; All these are dead; and we alone Remain to weep for what is gone.

What is this thing? thus hurriedly To pa.s.s into eternity; To leave the earth so full of mirth; To lose the profit of our birth; To die and be no more; to cease, Having numbness that is not peace.

Let us go hence; and, even if thus Death everywhere must go with us, Let us not see the change, but see Those who have been or still shall be."

He sighed and they went on together; Beneath their feet did the gra.s.s wither; Across the heaven high overhead Dark misty clouds floated and fled; And in their bosom was the thunder, And angry lightnings flashed out under, Forked and red and menacing; Far off the wind was muttering; It seemed to tell, not understood, Strange secrets to the listening wood.

Upon its wings it bore the scent Of blood of a great armament: Then saw they how on either side Fields were down-trodden far and wide.

That morning at the break of day Two nations had gone forth to slay.

As a man soweth so he reaps.

The field was full of bleeding heaps; Ghastly corpses of men and horses That met death at a thousand sources; Cold limbs and putrifying flesh; Long love-locks clotted to a mesh That stifled; stiffened mouths beneath Staring eyes that had looked on death.

But these were dead: these felt no more The anguish of the wounds they bore.

Behold, they shall not sigh again, Nor justly fear, nor hope in vain.

What if none wept above them?--is The sleeper less at rest for this?

Is not the young child's slumber sweet When no man watcheth over it?

These had deep calm; but all around There was a deadly smothered sound, The choking cry of agony From wounded men who could not die; Who watched the black wing of the raven Rise like a cloud 'twixt them and heaven, And in the distance flying fast Beheld the eagle come at last.

She knelt down in her agony: "O Lord, it is enough," said she: "My heart's prayer putteth me to shame; "Let me return to whence I came.

"Thou for who love's sake didst reprove, "Forgive me for the sake of love."

Sweet Death

The sweetest blossoms die.

And so it was that, going day by day Unto the church to praise and pray, And crossing the green church-yard thoughtfully, I saw how on the graves the flowers Shed their fresh leaves in showers; And how their perfume rose up to the sky Before it pa.s.sed away.

The youngest blossoms die.

They die, and fall, and nourish the rich earth From which they lately had their birth.

Sweet life: but sweeter death that pa.s.seth by, And is as tho' it had not been.

All colors turn to green: The bright hues vanish, and the odours fly; The gra.s.s hath lasting worth.

And youth and beauty die.

So be it, O my G.o.d, thou G.o.d of truth.

Better than beauty and than youth Are saints and angels, a glad company: And Thou, O lord, our Rest and Ease, Are better far than these.

Why should we shrink from our full harvest? why Prefer to glean with Ruth?