RABBI BEN EZRA. GROW Old along with me! The best is yet to be, I. The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in His hand Who saith 'A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!' Youth sighed 'Which rose make ours, Which lily leave and then as best recall!' Not that, admiring stars, It yearned 'Nor Jove, nor Mars; 5 10 Mine be some figured flame which blends, transcends them all!' III. Not for such hopes and fears Annulling youth's brief years, Do I remonstrate; folly wide the mark! Rather I prize the doubt Low kinds exist without, Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark. 15 iv. Poor vaunt of life indeed, Were man but formed to feed 20 On joy, to solely seek and find and feast: Such feasting ended, then As sure an end to men ; Irks care the crop-full bird? Frets doubt the maw-crammed And not partake, effect and not receive! A spark disturbs our clod; Nearer we hold of God Who gives, than of His tribes that take, I must believe. Then, welcome each rebuff VI. That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; 25 30 35 Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe! For thence a paradox VII. Which comforts while it mocks Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail: What I aspired to be, And was not, comforts me; 40 A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the scale. What is he but a brute VIII. Whose flesh hath soul to suit, Whose spirit works lest arms and legs want play? Thy body at its best, How far can that project thy soul on its lone way? 45 IX. Yet gifts should prove their use: I own the Past profuse Of power each side, perfection every turn: Eyes, ears took in their dole, Brain treasured up the whole; 50 Should not the heart beat once 'How good to live and learn?' x. Not once beat 'Praise be Thine! I see the whole design, I, who saw power, see now love perfect too: Perfect I call Thy plan: Thanks that I was a man ! 55 Maker, remake, complete,-I trust what Thou shalt do!' 60 For pleasant is this flesh; Our soul, in its rose-mesh XI. Pulled ever to the earth, still yearns for rest: Would we some prize might hold To match those manifold Possessions of the brute,-gain most, as we did best! 65 Let us not always say Spite of this flesh to-day XII. I strove, made head, gained ground upon the whole!' As the bird wings and sings, Let us cry All good things. 70 Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh helps soul !' XIII. Therefore I summon age To grant youth's heritage, Life's struggle having so far reached its term: A man, for aye removed From the developed brute; a God though in the germ. And I shall thereupon Take rest, ere I be gone XIV. Once more on my adventure brave and new; When I wage battle next, What weapons to select, what armour to indue. Youth ended, I shall try My gain or loss thereby ; XV. Leave the fire ashes, what survives is gold: And I shall weigh the same, Give life its praise or blame: Young, all lay in dispute; I shall know, being old. XVI. For note, when evening shuts, A certain moment cuts The deed off, calls the glory from the gray: A whisper from the west Shoots Add this to the rest, Take it and try its worth: here dies another day.' So, still within this life, Though lifted o'er its strife, XVII. Let me discern, compare, pronounce at last, 'This rage was right i' the main, That acquiescence vain : The Future I may face now I have proved the Past.' For more is not reserved XVIII. To man, with soul just nerved To act to-morrow what he learns to-day; Here, work enough to watch The Master work, and catch Hints of the proper craft, tricks of the tool's true play. As it was better, youth XIX. Should strive, through acts uncouth, Toward making, than repose on aught found made; From strife, should know, than tempt Further. Thou waitedst age; wait death nor be afraid! Enough now, if the Right And Good and Infinite XX. Be named here, as thou call'st thy hand thine own, Subject to no dispute From fools that crowded youth, nor let thee feel alone. Be there, for once and all, XXI. Severed great minds from small, Announced to each his station in the Past! Was I the world arraigned, Were they my soul disdained, Right? Let age speak the truth and give us peace at last! |