O soul of mine, repining, What wouldst have done for thee? Speak, great or small defining: Granted thy wish shall be. | Of all bright things, prized highest, Beneath the rolling sun, Tell that for which thou sighest; For thee it shall be done. | 107 Wouldst thou assume the measure Of Gyges, Lydia's king, To hide or show at pleasure By power of magic ring? | Wouldst thou rich Midas follow? "All gold I touch," he cried: 'Tis given! e'en gold to swallow: So all of gold he died. | Wouldst shine in brilliant trammels, With pearls and jewels grand? Have flocks, and herds, and camels, And acres of fat land? | Such things we will not barter: To thee they were a snare: They are not in our charter, Nor would I have them there. | 108 For since to God advancing I came at His own call, Such cares the soul entrancing, I have abandoned all. | Wouldst have the nations bending Beneath thy yoke to day, To-morrow thyself lending To grace another's sway? | The sway of one, once marching, It might be, at thy side; Or menial base, now arching His neck in lofty pride? | Wouldst thou in Love's sweet anguish, In indolence and ease, Let truth and honour languish, And change with changing breeze? | 109 Wouldst wed a fair Heth's daughter, Fair progeny to see? Ah me! of woes and slaughter Progenitor to be! | Wouldst have the commons sounding The greatness of thy fame, And theatres rebounding With echoes of thy name? | Wouldst thou in courts o'erflowing With legal mockery, Justice and truth o'erthrowing, Pillage, and pillaged be? | Wouldst take a martial bearing, And sport with blood and gore? Or, Pythian garlands wearing, Defy the lion's roar? | 110 Wouldst have the town applauding, And statues reared to thee? The world thy merits lauding, Wouldst thou its idol be? | Vain wish! a shadowy dreaming, A moan of wind hence bound, Whiz of an arrow gleaming, A hand-clap's dying sound. | Such things will fade to-morrow, However bright to-day: And he must sleep in sorrow Who makes them his heart's stay. | Toys common! bad men's heaven! And ah! when hence they go, To none is it then given To carry aught below. | 111 What then, O soul repining, Since these things nothing be, Substantial good defining, Wouldst thou have done for thee? | Wouldst be a god, presiding At God's own side most high, Angelic chorus guiding, All radiant o'er the sky? | Go thou, on pinions gliding Of vehement desire, On rapid whirlwind riding Whither thou dost aspire. | To plume thy wing I'm trying, Nor spare the friendly goad: Mount upward, bird-like flying On thine ethereal road. | 112 But earth's own child on crutches, Since, I am yoked to thee, As queen in butchers' clutches, Just tell how this must be; | Whom wilt thou have abettor, To be upheld in breath? For I'm no more thy debtor, Nor heed vain threats of death. | Or wouldst thou perfumed table, With dainties covered o'er, So art cuisine be able To stimulate thee more? | And lyre, and whirl so maddening Of rapid foot and hand, And things to tell too saddening, Known to the revelling band? | 113 Art thou for such things wrangling? Have thy desire!--but wait: Such things, not life, but strangling, To friends insatiate! | For thee, a house abideth, A rock with self-formed dome; Nature herself provideth: We give thee such a home! | Or if thy fancy leadeth To build thyself a cell, But little toil it needeth, Where thou mayst safely dwell, | The body claims small payment, Ere it returns to dust: Skins, camel's hair, for raiment Sufficed of old the just. | 114 And grass, or straw, as chances, Make thou thy humble bed: And purple heath, or branches, Thy coverlet be spread. | Such for my guests is meetest: No fear to great or small: Plain table: odours sweetest, Kind earth's free gifts to all. | Thus housed, we will thee nourish, As best we can afford: Wouldst eat? take bread and flourish: Take meal, if on the board. | Here's salt: and thyme we scant not: Such source no toil requires: More luxuries we want not, Whate'er the world desires. | 115 Or drink wouldst thou? there springeth An everflowing bowl: No bane the fountain bringeth, Bright cheerer of the soul. | But wouldst unbend in season, And not, o'erstrained, repine? We grant in this is reason, Nor grudge the rough-made wine. | But thou dost spurn all measure, And wouldst the vessel bore, And take huge draughts of pleasure Till thou couldst hold no more. | Then seek another helot, All lengths with thee to go, No idler I, nor zealot, To nurse domestic foe. | 116 A frozen reptile taken, And with fond warmth caressed: See! it to life doth waken, And wound me in the breast. | Wouldst boundless gold-roofed mansions, Gemmed paragons of art, And master-piece expansions, To life which almost start? | Colours with colours blending In opposite array; Rare tablets, softness lending, Or shining bright as day? | Dost long for robes wide-flowing, Pride of the untouched great; And wealth on fingers glowing, Incredible to state? | 117 Art thou at beauty aiming? The wise would scorn to win: More I than all, proclaiming That beauty is within. | Thus I to men benighted, of earth the creatures fond, For time alone quick-sighted, With not a thought beyond. | But ye who soar up higher, A noble life to live; Who would to heaven be nigher, Behold what God doth give! | In poorest clay there dwelleth That which can never die: With this my bosom swelleth: For this I food supply! | 118 God-minded, thyself harden! Meet calm the flashing sword! Plant trees for God's own garden! Be worker, with the Lord! | Up! living words be building, In God's blest truth secure. Not robbed by foe's false gilding Through pleasure's baneful lure! | Again of life eternal, Approach the blessèd tree The way, O Thou Supernal, I've found in knowing Thee. | Past, present, never-ending, The One great Light in Three; To whom all things are tending: To Thee, all glory be! | 119 To self the wise thus speaketh, Turning his eyes within; And eager there he seeketh To find out lurking sin. | But who to speak refuseth, Will pass his days in vain: Nay, more! the ease he chooseth, May end in greatest pain. | |