Part 25 (2/2)

Were there another G.o.d with vows to gain, To Him for succour I would surely go: Nor could I be called impious, if I turned In this great agony from one who spurned, To one who bade me come and cured my woe.

Nay, Lord! I babble vainly. Help! I cry, Before the temple where Thy reason burned, Become a mosque of imbecility!

II.

Well know I that there are no words which can Move Thee to favour him for whom Thy grace Was not reserved from all eternity.

Repentance in Thy counsel finds no place: Nor can the eloquence of mortal man Bend Thee to mercy, when Thy sure decree Hath stablished that this frame of mine should be Rent by these pangs that flesh and spirit tire.

Nay if the whole world knows my martyrdom-- Heaven, earth, and all that in them have their home-- Why tell the tale to Thee, their Lord and Sire?

And if all change is death or some such state, Thou deathless G.o.d, to whom for help I come, How shall I make Thee change, to change my fate?

III.

Nathless for grace I once more sue to Thee, Spurred on by anguish sore and deep distress:-- Yet have I neither art nor voice to plead Before Thy judgment-seat of righteousness.

It is not faith, it is not charity, Nor hope that fails me in my hour of need; And if, as some men teach, the soul is freed From sin and quickened to deserve Thy grace By torments suffered on this earth below, The Alps have neither ice, I ween, nor snow To match my purity before Thy face!

For prisons fifty, tortures seven, twelve years Of want and injury and woe-- These have I borne, and still I stand ringed round with fears.

IV.

We lay all wrapped with darkness: for some slept The sleep of ignorance, and players played Music to sweeten that vile sleep for gold: While others waked, and hands of rapine laid On honours, wealth, and blood; or s.e.xless crept Into the place of harlots, basely bold.-- I lit a light:--like swarming bees, behold!

Stripped of their sheltering gloom, on me Sleepers and wakers rush to wreak their spite: Their wounds, their brutal joys disturbed by light, Their broken b.e.s.t.i.a.l sleep fill them with jealousy.-- Thus with the wolves the silly sheep agreed Against the valiant dogs to fight; Then fell the prey of their false friends' insatiate greed.

V.

Help, mighty Shepherd! Save Thy lamp, Thy hound, From wolves that ravin and from thieves that prey!

Make known the whole truth to the witless crowd!

For if my light, my voice, are cast away-- If sinfulness in these Thy gifts be found-- The sun that rules in heaven is disallowed.

Thou knowest without wings I cannot fly: Give me the wings of grace to speed my flight!

Mine eyes are always turned to greet Thy light: Is it my crime if still it pa.s.s me by?

Thou didst free Bocca and Gilardo; these, Worthless, are made the angels of Thy might.-- Hast Thou lost counsel? Shall Thine empire cease?

VI.

With Thee I speak: Lord, thou dost understand!

Nor mind I how mad tongues my life reprove.

Full well I know the world is 'neath Thine eye.

And to each part thereof belongs Thy love: But for the general welfare wisely planned The parts must suffer change;--they do not die, For nature ebbs and flows eternally;-- But to such change we give the name of Death Or Evil, whensoe'er we feel the strife Which for the universe is joy and life, Though for each part it seems mere lack of breath.-- So in my body every part I see With lives and deaths alternate rife, All tending to its vital unity.

VII.

<script>