I Have Lived With Shades I I have lived with shades so long, And talked to them so oft, Since forth from cot and croft I went mankind among, That sometimes they In their dim style Will pause awhile To hear my say; II And take me by the hand, And lead me through their rooms In the To-be, where Dooms Half-wove and shapeless stand: And show from there The dwindled dust And rot and rust Of things that were. III Now turn, spake they to me One day: Look whence we came, And signify his name Who gazes thence at thee. - --Nor name nor race Know I, or can, I said, Of man So commonplace. IV He moves me not at all; I note no ray or jot Of rareness in his lot, Or star exceptional. Into the dim Dead throngs around Hell sink, nor sound Be left of him. V Yet, said they, his frail speech, Hath accents pitched like thine - Thy mould and his define A likeness each to each - But go! Deep pain Alas, would be His name to thee, And told in vain! O memory, where is now my youth, Who used to say that life was truth? I saw him in a crumbled cot Beneath a tottering tree; That he as phantom lingers there Is only known to me. O Memory, where is now my joy, Who lived with me in sweet employ? I saw him in gaunt gardens lone, Where laughter used to be; That he as phantom wanders there Is known to none but me. O Memory, where is now my hope, Who charged with deeds my skill and scope? I saw her in a tomb of tomes, Where dreams are wont to be; That she as spectre haunteth there Is only known to me. O Memory, where is now my faith, One time a champion, now a wraith? I saw her in a ravaged aisle, Bowed down on bended knee; That her poor ghost outflickers there Is known to none but me. O Memory, where is now my love, That rayed me as a god above? I saw him by an ageing shape Where beauty used to be; That his fond phantom lingers there Is only known to me. I Said to Love I said to Love, It is not now as in old days When men adored thee and thy ways All else above; Named thee the Boy, the Bright, the One Who spread a heaven beneath the sun, I said to Love. I said to him, We now know more of thee than then; We were but weak in judgment when, With hearts abrim, We clamoured thee that thou wouldst please Inflict on us thine agonies, I said to him. I said to Love, Thou art not young, thou art not fair, No faery darts, no cherub air, Nor swan, nor dove Are thine; but features pitiless, And iron daggers of distress, I said to Love. Depart then, Love! . . . - Mans race shall end, dost threaten thou? The age to come the man of now Know nothing of? - We fear not such a threat from thee; We are too old in apathy! Mankind shall cease.--So let it be, I said to Love. THOMAS HARDY
Posted on: Tue, 05 Nov 2013 21:55:17 +0000
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