Self and Life

SELF. Changeful comrade, Life of mine,Before we two must part,I will tell thee, thou shalt say,What thou hast been and art.Ere I lose my hold of theeJustify thyself to me.

Life. I was thy warmth upon thy mother's kneeWhen light and love within her eyes were one:We laughed together by the laurel-tree,Culling warm daisies 'neath the sloping sun;

We heard the chickens' lazy croon,Where the trellised woodbines grew,And all the summer afternoonMystic gladness o'er thee threw.Was it person? Was it thing?Was it touch or whispering?It was bliss and it was I:Bliss was what thou knew'st me by.

Self. Soon I knew thee more by FearAnd sense of what was not,Haunting all I held most dear;I had a double lot:Ardor, cheated with alloy,Wept the more for dreams of joy.

Life. Remember how thy ardor's magic senseMade poor things rich to thee and small things great;How hearth and garden, field and bushy fence,Were thy own eager love incorporate;

And how the solemn, splendid PastO'er thy early widened earthMade grandeur, as on sunset castDark elms near take mighty girth.Hands and feet were tiny stillWhen we knew the historic thrill,Breathed deep breath in heroes dead,Tasted the immortals' bread.

Self. Seeing what I might have beenReproved the thing I was,Smoke on heaven's clearest sheen,The speck within the rose.By revered ones' frailties stungReverence was with anguish wrung.

Life. But all thy anguish and thy discontentWas growth of mine, the elemental strifeToward feeling manifold with vision blentTo wider thought: I was no vulgar life

That, like the water-mirrored ape.Not discerns the thing it sees,Nor knows its own in others' shape,Railing, scorning, at its ease.

Half man's truth must hidden lieIf unlit by Sorrow's eye.I by Sorrow wrought in theeWilling pain of ministry.

Self. Slowly was the lesson taughtThrough passion, error, care;Insight was the loathing fraughtAnd effort with despair.Written on the wall I saw"Bow!" I knew, not loved, the law.

Life. But then I brought a love that wrote withinThe law of gratitude, and made thy heartBeat to the heavenly tune of seraphimWhose only joy in having is, to impart:

Till thou, poor Self—despite thy ire,Wrestling 'gainst my mingled share,Thy faults, hard falls, and vain desireStill to be what others were—Filled, o'erflowed with tendernessSeeming more as thou wert less,Knew me through that anguish pastAs a fellowship more vast.

Self. Yea, I embrace thee, changeful Life!Far-sent, unchosen mate!Self and thou, no more at strife,Shall wed in hallowed state.Willing spousals now shall proveLife is justified by love.