With sudden turn on Paul, Krishna thus spoke,
The gentleness which was his manner, now
To almost fierceness changed, so vehement
Was the revulsion and revolt expressed.
"Am I so lost I cannot save myself?"
He added, when he could command his tones
To speak with full becoming courtesy—
An inexpugnable repulsion yet
Shown of the answer that he thus invoked.
Calmly, but without effort to be calm,
"O, yea," said Paul, "so lost, and worse than so;
So lost thou dost not wish to save thyself;
Nay, dost not know thou needest to be saved.
It is the sad besotment deep of sin,
Wherein not thou alone but all of us
Since Adam, the first man, are sunk and lost.
We are dead in sin, this even from our first breath,
And, like the dead, know not that we are dead,
And, like the dead, care not to live again,
Nor, more than they, could, if we would, revive.
A dreadful doom of helpless living death!
Helpless, yet hopeless not, blesséd be God!
Yea, there is hope, albeit not in ourselves;
Christ is a power of life that overflows
To all that will make ready a way for Him
To enter by the gladsome gates of will.
He quickens whom He will, but will not quicken
Save who will say to Him, 'Lord, quicken me!'
A paradox, sayest thou, hard to be solved?
Yea, more, outright impossibility—
With man impossibility, but not
With God; with God, all things are possible."
"Thou makest this thing 'sin,'" the Indian said,
"Such evil as is more miserable far
Than misery's self. Who taught thee this? 'Sin,''sin'—
Is it not perhaps some specter of the mind
Only, unreal as horrible, which thou
Hast conjured up from nothing to thyself
In thy lone brooding on the riddle of things?"
Paul hearing this thought backward of the time
When Porcius Festus brusquely said to him
In public presence: 'Paul, thou art mad; thy long
Deep pouring over books turns wild thy wits.'
With himself musing: 'One in his right mind
Thus to be judged distraught by those distraught!'
He answered: "Yea, that is a wile I know
Of Satan's playing on this human heart
Of ours, deceitful as it is above
All things and desperately wicked, yet
Insanely cunning in complicity
Against itself—a wile I know too well
To cheat us into thinking naught of sin.
A bugbear of the morbid conscience, sin!
I might myself have been, I cannot know,
Lulled by this lie into false fatal peace;
But the Lord Christ Himself appeared to me
In light like lightning though a hundred fold
Keener, shot suddenly from out a clear
Sky at midnoon, and called me by my name,
The name that then I bore; 'Saul, Saul,' He said,
'Why dost thou persecute Me?' 'Thee,' said I,
'Who art thou, Lord?' And He, 'Jesus I am
Whom thou dost persecute.'
"That moment first,
In its true hideous native aspect shown,
Sin was revealed to me. I saw it wear
A face of horrible malignity
Gnashing its teeth on Jesus, the One Man
Who sinned not ever and yet died for sin,
Died for the sin that slew Him, for my sin
That slew Him on the bitter cross, that still
Was slaying Him afresh—who died for me.
I found the truth and meaning of those words
By Jesus from the imminent verge of death
Spoken, that not believing upon Him
Was the one sin. When the ideal man
Is shown us, then to know Him not for such
Betokens us how besotted!—beyond hope;
But if the ideal man be Son of God
And bring us out of heaven a word from Him,
Not to receive the message, nay, to flout
The messenger himself as I had done,
Yea, was that moment doing when the light
I spoke of fell on me—what height, what depth
Of sin! O, sin's exceeding sinfulness!
And yet, not so even is the measure full.
For God in testimony of His Son
Put forth the working of His mighty power
And raised Him from the dead, exalting Him
To the right hand of glory with Himself.
Christ then, there sitting by His Father's side
And with Him reigning, victor over death
And over him that had the power of death,
The devil, sent thence the Holy Spirit down
Hither to us to lead us into truth.
The Holy Spirit in thy heart, O Krishna,
Grieve Him not, send Him not away from thee!
It was His secret prompting made thee take
That spring toward God at mention of His name.
Yield to Him, He desires thy good, consent
To be convinced of sin—sin still committed
Till thou believe on Jesus Christ as Lord;
And now a sin against the Holy Ghost!"
Solemn the words, spoken solemnly by Paul;
They wrought an awe in Krishna hearing them.
The sense indeed was half not understood;
Yet not the less, almost it seemed the more,
They touched him to the quickest in his soul.
Paul too was awed and did not further speak,
Thinking, 'Let me beware not to obtrude
Myself untimely between God and man!'
Nay, even he would that Krishna were alone,
To wrestle in that solemn solitude
Wherein needs must at last the human spirit
Ever transact the awful mystery
Of its own reconcilement with its God.
Yet Paul so wishing still would not withdraw,
He might inhospitable seem or seem
Too conscious of his fellow's inward strife;
He prayed in silence with unutterable
Strong yearning of desire quickened with hope:
'Let Krishna win the victory of defeat!'
The Indian soon with gesture of farewell
Unspoken, which meant thanks and courtesy
Habitual, but meant also not habitual
Appeal for sympathy in felt helplessness,
As who should say, 'Pray, pray for me,' retired.
'Impossible!' so he murmured to himself;
'I would have paid a hundred million years
Of pain and patience and unceasing toil
To buy escape from being and misery.
Now to accept deliverance as a gift,
Acknowledging that I cannot purchase it—
I sicken within me at the very thought!
Deliverance not from being but misery—
If that could be! Fulness of life, not death!
Aye, that were better—were it possible!
I do not wish to cease from consciousness
If consciousness can be, apart from woe.
O Thou who must be, Thou whom since I heard
Thy name I cannot doubt more than I doubt
Myself, Thou, God, is this thy word indeed,
That I am lost in sin as not believing
On that man Jesus for mine only Lord?
Is he thy Son? Shall I trust all to him?
All, all, as if I were a little child?
'What is it in my heart that answers, Yea?
Is it Thou, O Holy Spirit? If it be
Thou, and none other and naught else than Thou
Then certify Thyself, give me a sign!
Ah, but I know, I know. O heart within,
Thou wilt not cheat thyself thus! Thou and I,
We know full well when God speaks it is He,
He and none other. Other none than Thou,
Paul's God, and mine, and mine, and mine, O yea,
Who but my God could speak thus closely to me?
O Buddha, Buddha, trusted long in vain!
In whom I took my refuge once, behold,
My house of refuge then supposed in thee
Is melted into ruin round about me.
I am a naked soul, unhoused, disclad;
O God, receive me, lo, I come to Thee;
Forgive my sin that I have not believed
Earlier in Christ thy Son, whom now I take
To be my Lord henceforth. I trust to Him
To save me and I cannot save myself.
But He, He can and will, thanks to His name;
Thanks to thy name, Lord Jesus, I am thine,
And Thou art mine, my Savior as my Lord!
'Where is my pride, which was so dear to me,
My pride, and my vain confidence of strength?
Gone, yea, and my desire even gone to be
Myself my own redeemer and not owe
Redemption as a debt of gratitude
To any; sense of debt is sweet to me
Now, and my heart is meekly glad to know
That I henceforth am not my own, but His
Who died to save me from myself and sin.
Nirvâna, which I erst befooled myself
To deem desirable, what dreary doom
Were it! Instead of life, and love, and joy,
True peace, and ever-springing gratitude
Growing greater every moment, like a stream
Increasing every moment to the sea
With fresh floods from fresh tributaries poured—
Instead of this, blank death and nothingness!
End unattainable, I now can see,
Even were it good. To lose this power to think
And suffer and enjoy, to quench in night
Utter, unending, reason's starry lamp,
And hope's, and memory's, and be naught at all!
I shudder backward from the crumbling brink
Of such annihilation of myself
Imagined only, and I eager spring
Endeavoring upward toward that different good
Assured to me and native now I know,
The prospect of eternal life with joy.'