The Pearl | Page 4

each aperture,?With pearls the whitest ever found,--?White all her brave investiture;?But a wondrous pearl, a flawless round,?Upon her breast was set full sure;?A man's mind it might well astound,?And all his wits to madness lure.?I thought that no tongue might endure?Fully to tell of that sweet sight,?So was it perfect, clear and pure,?That precious pearl with pearls bedight.
Bedight in pearls, lest my joy cease,?That lovely one came down the shore;?The gladdest man from here to Greece,?The eagerest, was I, therefore;?She was nearer kin than aunt or niece,?And thus my joy was much the more.?She spoke to me for my soul's peace,?Courtesied with her quaint woman's lore,?Caught off the shining crown she wore,?And greeted me with glance alight.?I blessed my birth; my bliss brimmed o'er?To answer her in pearls bedight.
V
"O Pearl," I said, "in pearls bedight,?Art thou my pearl for which I mourn,?Lamenting all alone at night??With hidden grief my heart is worn.?Since thou through grass didst slip from sight,?Pensive and pained, I pass forlorn,?And thou livest in a life of light,?A world where enters sin nor scorn.?What fate has hither my jewel borne,?And left me in earth's strife and stir??Oh, sweet, since we in twain were torn,?I have been a joyless jeweler."
That Jewel then with gems besprent?Glanced up at me with eyes of grey,?Put on her pearl crown orient,?And soberly began to say:?"You tell your tale with wrong intent,?Thinking your pearl gone quite away.?Like a jewel within a coffer pent,?In this gracious garden bright and gay,?Your pearl may ever dwell at play,?Where sin nor mourning come to her;?It were a joy to thee alway?Wert thou a gentle jeweler.
"But, Jeweler, if thou dost lose?Thy joy for a gem once dear to thee,?Methinks thou dost thy mind abuse,?Bewildered by a fantasy;?Thou hast lost nothing save a rose?That flowered and failed by life's decree:?Because the coffer did round it close,?A precious pearl it came to be.?A thief thou hast dubbed thy destiny?That something for nothing gives thee, sir;?Thou blamest thy sorrow's remedy,?Thou art no grateful jeweler."
Like jewels did her story fall,?A jewel, every gentle clause;?"Truly," I said, "thou best of all!?My great distress thy voice withdraws.?I thought my pearl lost past recall,?My jewel shut within earth's jaws;?But now I shall keep festival,?And dwell with it in bright wood-shaws;?And love my Lord and all His laws,?Who hath brought this bliss. Ah! if I were?Beyond these waves, I should have cause?To be a joyful jeweler."
"Jeweler," said that Gem so dear,?"Why jest ye men, so mad ye be??Three sayings thou hast spoken clear,?And unconsidered were all three;?Their meaning thou canst not come near,?Thy word before thy thought doth flee.?First, thou believest me truly here,?Because with eyes thou mayst me see;?Second, with me in this country?Thou wilt dwell, whatever may deter;?Third, that to cross here thou art free:?That may no joyful jeweler."
VI
The jeweler merits little praise,?Who loves but what he sees with eye,?And it were a discourteous phrase?To say our Lord would make a lie,?Who surely pledged thy soul to raise,?Though fate should cause thy flesh to die.?Thou dost twist His words in crooked ways?Believing only what is nigh;?This is but pride and bigotry,?That a good man may ill assume,?To hold no matter trustworthy?Till like a judge he hear and doom.
"Whate'er thy doom, dost thou complain?As man should speak to God most high??Thou wouldst gladly dwell in this domain;?'T were best, methinks, for leave to apply.?Even so, perchance, thou pleadest in vain.?Across this water thou wouldst fly,--?To other end thou must attain.?Thy corpse to clay comes verily,--?In Paradise 't was ruined by?Our forefather. Now in the womb?Of dreary death each man must lie,?Ere God on this bank gives his doom."
"Doom me not, sweet, to my old fears?And pain again wherein I pine.?My pearl that, long, long lost, appears,?Shall I again forego, in fine??Meet it, and miss it through more years??Thou hast hurt me with that threat of thine.?For what serves treasure but for tears,?One must so soon his bliss resign??I reck not how my days decline,?Though far from earth my soul seek room,?Parted from that dear pearl of mine.?Save endless dole what is man's doom?"
"No doom save pain and soul's distress?"?She answered: "Wherefore thinkst thou so??For pain of parting with the less,?Man often lets the greater go.?'T were better thou thy fate shouldst bless,?And love thy God, through weal and woe;?For anger wins not happiness;?Who must, shall bear; bend thy pride low;?For though thou mayst dance to and fro,?Struggle and shriek, and fret and fume,?When thou canst stir not, swift nor slow,?At last, thou must endure His doom."
"Let God doom as He doth ordain;?He will not turn one foot aside;?Thy good deeds mount up but in vain,?Thou must in sorrow ever bide;?Stint of thy strife, cease to complain,?Seek His compassion safe and wide,?Thy prayer His pity may obtain,?Till Mercy all her might have tried.?Thy anguish He will