Clarel A Poem and Pilgrimage in the Holy Land II

Forever and forever His mercy shall remain: In rivers fl ow forever, Forever fall in rain!

And wooden pillow, here were seen Pictured on satin soft – serene In fair translation. But advanced Above the others, and enhanced About the staff with ring and boss, They mark the standard of the Cross. That emblem, here, in Eastern form, For Derwent seemed to have a charm. “I like this Greek cross, it has grace;” He whispered Rolfe: “the Greeks eschew The long limb; beauty must have place – Attic! I like it. And do you?” “Better I’d like it, were it true.” “What mean you there?”

‘Tis night, with silence, save low moan Of winds. By torches red in glen A muffl ed man upon a stone Sits desolate sole denizen. Pilgrims and friars on ledge above Repose. A fi gure in remove This prologue renders: “He in view Is that Cartaphilus, the Jew

Who wanders ever; in low state, Behold him in Jehoshaphat The valley, underneath the hem And towers of gray Jerusalem: This must ye feign. With quick conceit Ingenuous, attuned in heart, Help out the actor in his part, And gracious be;” and made retreat. Then slouching rose the muffl ed man; Gazed toward the turrets, and began: “O city yonder, Exposed in penalty and wonder, Again thou seest me! Hither I Still drawn am by the guilty tie Between us; all the load I bear

Only thou know’st, for thou dost share. As round my heart the phantoms throng Of tribe and era perished long,

So thou art haunted, sister in wrong! While ghosts from mounds of recent date Invest and knock at every gatc Specters of thirty sieges old Your outer line of trenches hold: Egyptian, Mede, Greek, Arab, Turk, Roman, and Frank, beleaguering lurk. – “Jerusalem! Not solely for that bond of doom Between us, do I frequent come Hither, and make profound resort In Shaveh’s dale, inJoel’s court; But hungering also for the day Whose dawn these weary feet shall stay, When Michael’s trump the call shall spread Through all your warrens of the dead. “Time, never may I know the calm Till then? my lull the world’s alarm? But many mortal fears and feelings In me, in me here stand reversed: The unappeased judicial pealings Wrench me, not wither me, accursed. ‘Just let him live, just let him rove,’ (Pronounced the voice estranged from love) ‘Live – live and rove the sea and land; Long live, rove far, and understand And sum all knowledge for his dower; For he forbid is, he is banned; His brain shall tingle, but his hand

Or site thereof, of homely joy. I fold ye in the watch of night, Esther! then start. And hast thou been? And I for ages in this plight? Caitiff I am; but there’s no sin

Conjecturable, possible, No crime they expiate in hell Justly whereto such pangs belong: The wrongdoer he endureth wrong. Yea, now theJew, inhuman erst, With penal sympathy is cursed – The burden shares of every crime, And throttled miseries undirged, Unchronicled, and guilt submerged Each moment in the fl ood of time. Go mad I can not: I maintain The perilous outpost of the sane. Memory could I mitigate, Or would the long years vary any! But no, ‘tis fate repeating fate:

Banquet and war, bridal and hate, And tumults of the people many; And wind, and dust soon laid again: Vanity, vanity’s endless reign! – What’s there?” He paused, and all was hush Save a wild screech, and hurtling rush Of wings. An owl – the hermit true

Of grot the eremite once knew Up in the cleft – alarmed by ray Of shifted fl ambeau, burst from cave On bushy wing, and brushed away Down the long Kedron gorge and grave.

Pacing the deck while spray-clouds freeze; Pacing and pacing, night and morn, Until he staggers overworn;