Gave birth to, nourished, and at length matures This scheme. I will not speak of Einsiedeln, Where I was born your elder by some years Only to watch you fully from the first:
In all beside, our mutual tasks were fixed Even then-'twas mine to have you in my view As you had your own soul and those intents Which filled it when, to crown your dearest wish, With a tumultuous heart, you left with me Our childhood's home to join the favoured few Whom, here at Würzburg, Tritheim deigns to teach A portion of his lore and not the best
Of those so favoured, whom you now despise, Came earnest as you came; resolved, like you, To grasp all, and retain all, and deserve By patient toil a wide renown like his. And this new ardour which supplants the old, I watched, too; 'twas significant and strange, In one matched to his soul's content at length With rivals in the search for Wisdom's prize, To see the sudden pause, the total change; From contest, the transition to repose- From pressing onward as his fellows pressed, To a blank idleness; yet most unlike The dull stagnation of a soul, content, Once foiled, to leave betimes a thriveless quest. That careless bearing, free from all pretence Even of contempt for what it ceased to seek- Smiling humility, praising much, yet waiving
What it professed to praise-though not so well Maintained but that rare outbreaks, fierce as brief, Revealed the hidden scorn, as quickly curbed- That ostentatious show of past defeat, That ready acquiescence in contempt, I deemed no other than the letting go His shivered sword, of one about to spring Upon his foe's throat; but it was not thus: Not that way looked your brooding purpose then. For after-signs disclosed, what you confirmed, That you prepared to task to the uttermost Your strength, in furtherance of a certain aim, Which-while it bore the name your rivals gave Their own most puny efforts-was so vast In scope that it included their best flights, Combined them, and desired to gain one prize In place of many, the secret of the world, Of man, and man's true purpose, path, and fate: -That you, not nursing as a mere vague dream This purpose, with the sages of the Past, Have struck upon a way to this, if all
You trust be true, which following, heart and soul, You, if a man may, dare aspire to KNOW: And that this aim shall differ from a host
Of aims alike in character and kind, Mostly in this, to seek its own reward
In itself only, not an alien end
To blend therewith; no hope, nor fear, nor joy, Nor woe, to elsewhere move you, but this pure
Devotion to sustain you or betray:
You shall not state it thus:
I should not differ from the dreamy crew You speak of. I profess no other share In the selection of my lot, than this, A ready answer to the will of God
Who summons me to be his organ: all
Whose innate strength supports them shall succeed No better than your sages.
Fest. Such the aim, then, God sets before you; and 'tis doubtless need That he appoint no less the way of praise Than the desire to praise; for, though I hold With you, the setting forth such praise to be The natural end and service of a man,
And think such praise is best attained when man Attains the general welfare of his kind— Yet, this, the end, is not the instrument. Presume not to serve God apart from such Appointed channel as He wills shall gather Imperfect tributes-for that sole obedience Valued, perchance. He seeks not that his altars Blaze-careless how, so that they do but blaze. Suppose this, then; that God selected you TO KNOW (heed well your answers, for my faith Shall meet implicitly what they affirm) I cannot think you dare annex to such Selection aught beyond a steadfast will,
An intense hope, nor let your gifts create Scorn or neglect of ordinary means
Conducive to success-make destiny
Dispense with man's endeavour. Now, dare you search Your inmost heart, and candidly avow
Whether you have not rather wild desire
For this distinction, than security
Of its existence; whether you discern
The path to the fulfilment of your purpose
Clear as that purpose-and again, that purpose
Clear as your yearning to be singled out
Par. (After a pause.) No, I have'nought to fear! Who
The secret'st workings of my soul. What though It be so ?—if indeed the strong desire
Eclipse the aim in me ?-if splendour break
Upon the outset of my path alone,
And duskest shade succeed?
Shall I require to my authentic mission
Than this fierce energy ?-this instinct striving Because its nature is to strive?—enticed
By the security of no broad course,
With no success forever in its eyes!
How know I else such glorious fate my own,
But in the restless irresistible force
That works within me? Is it for human will To institute such impulses ?-still less,
To disregard their promptings? What should I
Do, kept among you all; your loves, your cares, Your life-all to be mine? Be sure that God Ne'er dooms to waste the strength he deigns impart! Ask the gier-eagle why she stoops at once
Into the vast and unexplored abyss,
What full-grown power informs her from the first, Why she not marvels, strenuously beating
The silent boundless regions of the sky!
Be sure they sleep not whom God needs! Nor fear Their holding light his charge, when every hour That finds that charge delayed, is a new death. This for the faith in which I trust; and hence I can abjure so well the idle arts
These pedants strive to learn and teach; Black Arts, Great Works, the Secret and Sublime, forsooth-
Let others prize: too intimate a tie
Connects me with our God! A sullen fiend To do my bidding, fallen and hateful sprites To help me-what are these, at best, beside God helping, God directing everywhere, So that the earth shall yield her secrets up, And every object shall be charged to strike, Teach, gratify, her master God appoints? And I am young, my Festus, happy and free! I can devote myself; I have a life
To give; I, singled out for this, the One!
Think, think; the wide east, where old Wisdom sprung; The bright south, where she dwelt; the hopeful north, All are past o'er-it lights on me! 'Tis time
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