Theocrite grew old at home; One vanished as the other died: 1844. Robert Browning. 76 SAINT BRANDAN SAINT BRANDAN sails the northern main; So late!-such storms!-The Saint is mad! 4 He heard, across the howling seas, He saw, on spray-swept Hebrides, Twinkle the monastery-lights. 8 But north, still north, Saint Brandan steer'd- The hurtling Polar lights are near'd, At last (it was the Christmas night; 12 16 That furtive mien, that scowling eye, Of hair that red and tufted fellIt is Oh, where shall Brandan fly? The traitor Judas, out of hell! Palsied with terror, Brandan sate; The moon was bright, the iceberg near. He hears a voice sigh humbly: "Wait! By high permission I am here. "One moment wait, thou holy man! On earth my crime, my death, they knew; My name is under all men's ban Ah, tell them of my respite too! "Tell them, one blessed Christmas-night- "I felt, as I in torment lay 'Mid the souls plagued by heavenly power, An angel touch mine arm, and say: Go hence and cool thyself an hour! "Ah, whence this mercy, Lord?' I said. "Then I remember'd how I went, In Joppa, through a public street, 20 24 28 32 36 40 One morn when the sirocco spent Its storms of dust with burning heat; "And in the street a leper sate, Shivering with fever, naked, old; "He gaz'd upon me as I pass'd, And murmur'd: Help me, or I die!— To the poor wretch my cloak I cast, Saw him look eased, and hurried by. "Oh, Brandan, think what grace divine, "Well-fed, well-clothed, well-friended, I "That germ of kindness, in the womb Of mercy caught, did not expire; Outlives my guilt, outlives my doom, And friends me in the pit of fire. “Once every year, when carols wake, I journey to these healing snows, 44 48 52 56 60 64 68 "I stanch with ice my burning breast, With silence balm my whirling brain. O Brandan! to this hour of rest That Joppan leper's ease was pain." Tears started to Saint Brandan's eyes; 72 He bow'd his head, he breathed a prayerThen look'd, and lo, the frosty skies! 1867. The iceberg, and no Judas there! 76 Matthew Arnold. ARETHUSA ARETHUSA arose From her couch of snows In the Acroceraunian mountains,- With many a jag, Shepherding her bright fountains. She leapt down the rocks, She went, ever singing, In murmurs as soft as sleep; The Earth seemed to love her, And Heaven smiled above her, 18 Then Alpheus bold, With his trident the mountains strook In the rocks; with the spasm All Erymanthus shook. And the black south wind It concealed behind The urns of the silent snow, And earthquake and thunder The bars of the springs below. "Oh, save me! Oh, guide me! To its blue depth stirred, And divided at her prayer; With the brackish Dorian stream: 36 |