Part 22 (1/2)
How if this West by other Wests is pierced.
And these by vacant Wests and Wests increased-- One pain of s.p.a.ce, with hollow ache on ache, Throbbing and ceasing not for Christ's own sake?
Big, perilous theorem, hard for king and priest; 'Pursue the West but long enough, 'tis East!'
Oh, if this watery world no turning take; Oh, if for all my logic, all my dreams, Provings of that which is by that which seems, Fears, hopes, chills, heats, hastes, patiences, droughts, tears, Wife-grievings, slights on love, embezzled years, Hates, treaties, scorns, upliftings, loss, and gain, This earth, no sphere, be all one sickening plain.
”Or, haply, how if this contrarious West, That me by turns hath starved, by turns hath fed, Embraced, disgraced, beat back, solicited, Have no fixed heart of law within his breast; Or with some different rhythm doth e'er contest, Nature in the East? Why, 'tis but three weeks fled I saw my Judas needle shake his head And flout the Pole that, East, he lord confessed!
G.o.d! if this West should own some other Pole, And with his tangled ways perplex my soul Until the maze grow mortal, and I die Where distraught Nature clean hath gone astray, On earth some other wit than Time's at play, Some other G.o.d than mine above the sky!
”Now speaks mine other heart with cheerier seeming; 'Ho, Admiral! o'er-defalking to thine crew Against thyself, thyself far overfew To front yon mult.i.tudes of rebel scheming?'
Come, ye wild twenty years of heavenly dreaming!
Come, ye wild weeks, since first this canvas drew Out of vexed Palos ere the dawn was blue, O'er milky waves about the bows full-creaming!
Come, set me round with many faithful spears Of confident remembrance--how I crushed Cat-lived rebellions, pitfalled treasons, hushed Scared husbands' heart-break cries on distant wives, Made cowards blush at whining for their lives; Watered my parching souls and dried their tears.
”Ere we Gomera cleared, a coward cried: 'Turn, turn; here be three caravels ahead, From Portugal, to take us; we are dead!'
'Hold westward, pilot,' calmly I replied.
So when the last land down the horizon died, 'Go back, go back,' they prayed, 'our hearts are lead.'
'Friends, we are bound into the West,' I said.
Then pa.s.sed the wreck of a mast upon our side.
'See (so they wept) G.o.d's warning! Admiral, turn!'
'Steersman,' I said, 'hold straight into the West.'
Then down the night we saw the meteor burn.
So do the very heavens in fire protest.
'Good Admiral, put about! O Spain, dear Spain!'
'Hold straight into the West,' I said again.
”Next drive we o'er the slimy-weeded sea, 'Lo! here beneath,' another coward cries, 'The cursed land of sunk Atlantis lies; This slime will suck us down--turn while thou'rt free!'
'But no!' I said, 'freedom bears West for me!'
Yet when the long-time stagnant winds arise, And day by day the keel to westward flies, My Good my people's Ill doth come to be; Ever the winds into the west do blow; Never a s.h.i.+p, once turned, might homeward go; Meanwhile we speed into the lonesome main.
'For Christ's sake, parley, Admiral! Turn, before We sail outside all bounds of help from pain.'
'Our help is in the West,' I said once more.
”So when there came a mighty cry of Land!
And we clomb up and saw, and shouted strong '_Salve Regina!_' all the ropes along, But knew at morn how that a counterfeit band Of level clouds had aped a silver strand; So when we heard the orchard-bird's small song, And all the people cried, 'A h.e.l.lish throng To tempt us onward, by the Devil planned, Yea, all from h.e.l.l--keen heron, fresh green weeds, Pelican, tunny-fish, fair tapering reeds, Lie-telling lands that ever s.h.i.+ne and die In clouds of nothing round the empty sky.
'Tired Admiral, get thee from this h.e.l.l, and rest!'
'Steersman,' I said, 'hold straight into the West.'
”I marvel how mine eye, ranging the Night, From its big circling ever absently Returns, thou large, low star, to fix on thee.
Maria! Star? No star; a Light, a Light!
Wouldst leap ash.o.r.e, Heart? Yonder burns a Light!