Oswald— I feel
The darkness gathering round me.
Abbot— Don't say that.
You will be well again. You will be strong
Some day, my son, and many years shall pass
Ere the Lord calls you. Hath he not given proof?
A shepherd to you, surely God hath been.
Three nights ago at this time, where were you?
Lying down in the gorge, and the night wind
Passed and you knew it not. But God watched there,
And sent his servant—for all things serve Him—And
here you are safe in the fold again.
That deed unclasped a volume of bright days.
God doth not put his hand forth and lift up
As he hath lifted you, and then cast down
Ere the knees be straightened. Your tears should fall
For joy, my son, not sorrow. Think how near
Your foot was to the gates of darkness when
God turned your face around and there flashed out
A jeweled finger pointing toward a dawn—Far
off it may be or it may be near—When
the last shred of darkness shall vanish.
Let those that hound you, fear, for God shall cleave
A chasm in the earth for them; but you—No,
no, my son, not darkness, light. God's light
And glory from the new Jerusalem
Will shine upon you on the mountain tops,
If dreams are tapers lighting what is to be,
As some believe they are.
(The Priest reaches under his gown and takes something in his right hand, and with the other draws the string from around his neck and drops it into his right hand, after which he pulls the sleeve down over it till only the knuckles are visible.)
Therefore, my son,
Lift up your face and let white words go forth
And usher in the Sabbath. Truth in the heart
Is fire under water, but on the lips
It lighteth every man the Way of Life.
(The Priest goes toward the chest near the door.)
Benedict, will you do as Pilate did?
Father Benedict—Is he the Lord?
Father Benedict— Then who are you?
Abbot—He is a child of our Lord's.