Renascence and Other Poems | Page 4

lay I
And suffered death, but could not die.
Long had I lain thus, craving death,
When quietly the earth beneath

Gave way, and inch by inch, so great
At last had grown the crushing
weight,
Into the earth I sank till I
Full six feet under ground did lie,

And sank no more, -- there is no weight
Can follow here, however
great.
From off my breast I felt it roll,
And as it went my tortured
soul
Burst forth and fled in such a gust
That all about me swirled
the dust.
Deep in the earth I rested now;
Cool is its hand upon the brow
And
soft its breast beneath the head
Of one who is so gladly dead.
And
all at once, and over all
The pitying rain began to fall;
I lay and
heard each pattering hoof
Upon my lowly, thatched roof,
And
seemed to love the sound far more
Than ever I had done before.
For
rain it hath a friendly sound
To one who's six feet underground;

And scarce the friendly voice or face:
A grave is such a quiet place.
The rain, I said, is kind to come
And speak to me in my new home.

I would I were alive again
To kiss the fingers of the rain,
To drink
into my eyes the shine
Of every slanting silver line,
To catch the
freshened, fragrant breeze
From drenched and dripping apple-trees.

For soon the shower will be done,
And then the broad face of the sun

Will laugh above the rain-soaked earth

Until the world with
answering mirth
Shakes joyously, and each round drop
Rolls,
twinkling, from its grass-blade top.
How can I bear it; buried here,

While overhead the sky grows clear
And blue again after the storm?

O, multi-colored, multiform,
Beloved beauty over me,
That I
shall never, never see
Again! Spring-silver, autumn-gold,
That I
shall never more behold!
Sleeping your myriad magics through,

Close-sepulchred away from you!
O God, I cried, give me new birth,


And put me back upon the earth!
Upset each cloud's gigantic gourd

And let the heavy rain, down-poured
In one big torrent, set me free,

Washing my grave away from me!
I ceased; and through the breathless hush
That answered me, the
far-off rush
Of herald wings came whispering
Like music down the
vibrant string
Of my ascending prayer, and -- crash!
Before the wild
wind's whistling lash
The startled storm-clouds reared on high
And
plunged in terror down the sky,
And the big rain in one black wave

Fell from the sky and struck my grave.
I know not how such things
can be;
I only know there came to me
A fragrance such as never
clings
To aught save happy living things;
A sound as of some
joyous elf
Singing sweet songs to please himself,
And, through and
over everything,
A sense of glad awakening.
The grass, a-tiptoe at
my ear,
Whispering to me I could hear;
I felt the rain's cool
finger-tips
Brushed tenderly across my lips,
Laid gently on my
sealed sight,
And all at once the heavy night
Fell from my eyes and
I could see, --
A drenched and dripping apple-tree,
A last long line
of silver rain,
A sky grown clear and blue again.
And as I looked a
quickening gust
Of wind blew up to me and thrust
Into my face a
miracle
Of orchard-breath, and with the smell, --
I know not how
such things can be! --
I breathed my soul back into me.
Ah! Up then
from the ground sprang I
And hailed the earth with such a cry
As is
not heard save from a man

Who has been dead, and lives again.

About the trees my arms I wound;
Like one gone mad I hugged the
ground;
I raised my quivering arms on high;
I laughed and laughed
into the sky,
Till at my throat a strangling sob
Caught fiercely, and
a great heart-throb
Sent instant tears into my eyes;
O God, I cried,
no dark disguise
Can e'er hereafter hide from me
Thy radiant
identity!
Thou canst not move across the grass
But my quick eyes
will see Thee pass,
Nor speak, however silently,
But my hushed
voice will answer Thee.
I know the path that tells Thy way
Through
the cool eve of every day;
God, I can push the grass apart
And lay

my finger on Thy heart!
The world stands out on either side
No wider than the heart is wide;

Above the world is stretched the sky, --
No higher than the soul is
high.
The heart can push the sea and land
Farther away on either
hand;
The soul can split the sky in two,
And let the face of God
shine through.
But East and West will pinch the heart
That can not
keep them pushed apart;
And he whose soul is flat -- the sky
Will
cave in on him by and by.
Interim
The room is full of you! -- As I came in
And closed the door behind
me, all at once
A something in the air, intangible,
Yet stiff with
meaning, struck my senses sick! --
Sharp, unfamiliar odors have destroyed
Each other room's dear
personality.
The heavy scent of damp, funereal flowers, --
The very
essence, hush-distilled, of Death --
Has strangled that habitual breath
of home
Whose expiration leaves all houses dead;
And wheresoe'er
I look is hideous change.
Save here. Here 'twas as if a weed-choked
gate
Had opened at my touch, and I had stepped
Into some
long-forgot,