不知不觉中的天使（一至三）

ANGELS UNAWARES

I

One bending low with load of life—

That meant no joy, but suffering harsh and hard—

And wending on his way through dark and dismal paths

Without a flash of light from brain or heart

To give a moment's cheer, till the line

That marks out pain from pleasure, death from life,

And good from what is evil was well-nigh wiped from sight,

Saw, one blessed night, a faint but beautiful ray of light

Descend to him. He knew not what or wherefrom,

But called it God and worshipped.

Hope, an utter stranger, came to him and spread

Through all his parts, and life to him meant more

Than he could ever dream and covered all he knew,

Nay, peeped beyond his world. The Sages

Winked, and smiled, and called it "superstition".

But he did feel its power and peace

And gently answered back—

"O Blessed Superstition!"

II

One drunk with wine of wealth and power

And health to enjoy them both, whirled on

His maddening course, till the earth, he thought,

Was made for him, his pleasure-garden, and man,

The crawling worm, was made to find him sport,

Till the thousand lights of joy, with pleasure fed,

That flickered day and night before his eyes,

With constant change of colours, began to blur

His sight, and cloy his senses ; till selfishness,

Like a horny growth, had spread all o'er his heart ;

And pleasure meant to him no more than pain,

Bereft of feeling; and life in the sense,

So joyful, precious once, a rotting corpse between his arms,

Which he forsooth would shun, but more he tried, the more

It clung to him; and wished, with frenzied brain,

A thousand forms of death, but quailed before the charm,

Then sorrow came—and Wealth and Power went—

And made him kinship find with all the human race

In groans and tears, and though his friends would laugh,

His lips would speak in grateful accents—

"O Blessed Misery! "

III

One born with healthy frame — but not of will

That can resist emotions deep and strong,

Nor impulse throw, surcharged with potent strength —

And just the sort that pass as good and kind,

Beheld that he was safe, whilst others long

And vain did struggle 'gainst the surging waves.

Till, morbid grown, his mind could see, like flies

That seek the putrid part, but what was bad.

Then Fortune smiled on him, and his foot slipped.

That ope'd his eyes for e'er, and made him find

That stones and trees ne'er break the law,

But stones and trees remain ; that man alone

Is blest with power to fight and conquer Fate,

Transcending bounds and laws.

From him his passive nature fell, and life appeared

As broad and new, and broader, newer grew,

Till light ahead began to break, and glimpse of That

Where Peace Eternal dwells—yet one can only reach

By wading through the sea of struggles—courage-giving, came.

Then looking back on all that made him kin

To stocks and stones, and on to what the world

Had shunned him for, his fall, he blessed the fall,

And with a joyful heart, declared it —

"Blessed Sin!"

I

One bending low with load of life—

That meant no joy, but suffering harsh and hard—

And wending on his way through dark and dismal paths

Without a flash of light from brain or heart

To give a moment's cheer, till the line

That marks out pain from pleasure, death from life,

And good from what is evil was well-nigh wiped from sight,

Saw, one blessed night, a faint but beautiful ray of light

Descend to him. He knew not what or wherefrom,

But called it God and worshipped.

Hope, an utter stranger, came to him and spread

Through all his parts, and life to him meant more

Than he could ever dream and covered all he knew,

Nay, peeped beyond his world. The Sages

Winked, and smiled, and called it "superstition".

But he did feel its power and peace

And gently answered back—

"O Blessed Superstition!"

II

One drunk with wine of wealth and power

And health to enjoy them both, whirled on

His maddening course, till the earth, he thought,

Was made for him, his pleasure-garden, and man,

The crawling worm, was made to find him sport,

Till the thousand lights of joy, with pleasure fed,

That flickered day and night before his eyes,

With constant change of colours, began to blur

His sight, and cloy his senses ; till selfishness,

Like a horny growth, had spread all o'er his heart ;

And pleasure meant to him no more than pain,

Bereft of feeling; and life in the sense,

So joyful, precious once, a rotting corpse between his arms,

Which he forsooth would shun, but more he tried, the more

It clung to him; and wished, with frenzied brain,

A thousand forms of death, but quailed before the charm,

Then sorrow came—and Wealth and Power went—

And made him kinship find with all the human race

In groans and tears, and though his friends would laugh,

His lips would speak in grateful accents—

"O Blessed Misery! "

III

One born with healthy frame — but not of will

That can resist emotions deep and strong,

Nor impulse throw, surcharged with potent strength —

And just the sort that pass as good and kind,

Beheld that he was safe, whilst others long

And vain did struggle 'gainst the surging waves.

Till, morbid grown, his mind could see, like flies

That seek the putrid part, but what was bad.

Then Fortune smiled on him, and his foot slipped.

That ope'd his eyes for e'er, and made him find

That stones and trees ne'er break the law,

But stones and trees remain ; that man alone

Is blest with power to fight and conquer Fate,

Transcending bounds and laws.

From him his passive nature fell, and life appeared

As broad and new, and broader, newer grew,

Till light ahead began to break, and glimpse of That

Where Peace Eternal dwells—yet one can only reach

By wading through the sea of struggles—courage-giving, came.

Then looking back on all that made him kin

To stocks and stones, and on to what the world

Had shunned him for, his fall, he blessed the fall,

And with a joyful heart, declared it —

"Blessed Sin!"

Notes