HARPS HUNG UP IN BABYLON

By Arthur Colton

New York: Henry Holt And Company

1907

DEDICATED TO

MY FATHER


The harps hung up in Babylon,

Their loosened strings rang on, sang on

And cast their murmurs forth upon

The roll and roar of Babylon:

"Forget me, Lord, if I forget

Jerusalem for Babylon,

If I forget the vision set

High as the head of Lebanon

Is lifted over Syria yet,

If I forget and bow me down

To brutish gods of Babylon."

Two rivers to each other run

In the very midst of Babylon,

And swifter than their current fleets

The restless river of the streets

Of Babylon, of Babylon,

And Babylon's towers smite the sky,

But higher reeks to God most high

The smoke of her iniquity:

"But oh, betwixt the green and blue

To walk the hills that once we knew

When you were pure and I was true,"

So rang the harps in Babylon—

"Or ere along the roads of stone

Had led us captive one by one

The subtle gods of Babylon. "

The harps hung up in Babylon

Hung silent till the prophet dawn,

When Judah's feet the highway burned

Back to the holy hills returned,

And shook their dust on Babylon.

In Zion's halls the wild harps rang,

To Zion's walls their smitten clang,

And lo! of Babylon they sang,

They only sang of Babylon:

"Jehovah, round whose throne of awe

The vassal stars their orbits draw

Within the circle of Thy law,

Canst Thou make nothing what is done,

Or cause Thy servant to be one

That has not been in Babylon,

That has not known the power and pain

Of life poured out like driven rain?

I will go down and find again

My soul that's lost in Babylon."


CONTENTS

[ WEST-EASTERLY MORALITIES ]

[ THE CAPTIVE ]

[ THE PILGRIM ]

[ ALLAH'S TENT ]

[ THE POET AND THE FOUNTAIN ]

[ THE CHENEAUX ISLANDS ]

[ THE SHEPHERD AND THE KNIGHT ]

[ THE HERB OF GRACE ]

[ VERSES FROM "THE CANTICLE OF THE ROAD" ]

[ FAUSTINE ]

[ SOMETIME IT MAY BE ]

[ WHEN ALL THE BROOKS HAVE RUN AWAY ]

[ ONE HOUR ]

[ HEIRS OF TIME ]

[ WHO MAY WITH THE SHREWD HOURS STRIVE? ]

[ LET ME NO MORE A MENDICANT ]

[ CURARE SEPULTOS ]

[ TO-MORROW ]

[ SNOW ]

[ BY THE SEA ]

[ IN PORT TO-DAY ]

[ AS WE GROW OLD ]

[ WAYFARERS ]

[ THE HOUSE ]

[ SONNETS ]

[ THE HILLS ]

[ WORDSWORTH ]

[ THE WATER-LILY ]

[ THE THRUSH ]

[ THE ROMAN WAY ]

[ FOLLY ]

[ CONCERNING TABITHA'S DANCING OF THE MINUET ]

[ AN IDYL OF THE WOOD ]

[ PHYLLIS AND CORYDON ]

[ MAYING ]

[ TWO LITTLE MAIDS ]

[ TWENTY YEARS HENCE ]

[ WITHOUT THE GATE ]

[ ANCIEN M'SIEU PIERRE ]

[ CHRISTMAS EVE ]

[ THE CAROL SINGER ]

[ ARCADIE. I ]

[ ARCADIE. II ]

[ LAST YEAR'S NEST ]

[ EPILOGUE TO A BOOK OF UNIMPORTANT VERSES ]

[ FINIS ]


WEST-EASTERLY MORALITIES


THE CAPTIVE

There was a king, returned from putting down

The stiff rebellion of an Afghan town,

Who marked for death a captive. Then arose

The ragged Afghan from the marble floor,

Nor longer to the king's feet weeping clung,

But in the babble of his foreign tongue

He cursed him, as that ancient saying goes:

"Who comes to wash himself in death, before

Entering the pool, empties his heart ashore."

"What mean these words?" The king's voice, cold

and loud,

Rang in the space above the frightened crowd,

That bent before it, as when storm-winds blow

Their warning horns, and the storm crouches low

Still on the solid hills with sombre eyes,

Long lightnings slant, and muffled thunders rise,

And startled forests, helpless to retreat,

Stand with their struggling arms and buried feet.

An aged vizier rose, and bowed his head,

Clasping his gentle withered hands: "He said:

'To two God gives the shelter of His cloak,

Him who keeps down the anger in his breast,

Him who in justice counteth mercy best;

God shelter me and thee.' The man so spoke."

And the king bade them set the Afghan free,

Who in the face of death spoke graciously.

Ben Ali, the young vizier, to his feet

Leaped: "As I hold by counsellors it is meet

Truth should be spoken at a king's demand,

This man reviled thee with a shameful word!"

Whereat the king was mute, as one who heard

A voice in his own breast; turned with his hand

The bracelets on his arm; then speaking low,

Once more he bade them let the Afghan go.

THE KING.

"Art thou so upright, and by God made free

To be malignant in integrity?

Is it the truth alone thou owest to the king?

Nay, but all oracles that whispering

Speak in the central chamber of the heart,

Saving when envy speaks, which spoke in thee.

But thou, my father, shall not thy name be

Henceforth 'The Merciful'? For so thou art.

So spoke the king, and, leaning head to head,

The courtiers whispered, and Ben Ali said:

BEN ALI.

"Is it not written: 'When the truth is known,

Then only the king's mercy is his own'?

If then the king his servant will forgive

For rendering back the king's prerogative,

Forgive the misshaped mouth ill made to lie,

Forgive the straitened walk, the single eye,

Forgive the holy dead for truth who died,

And those who thought their deaths were sanctified;

With such forgiveness let me then go hence,

And, in some desert place of penitence

And meditation, read it in the dust,

If He who sends His rain upon the just,

And sends His rain upon the unjust too,

Is mercifully false, or merely true."

THE KING.

And the king said: "Thou livest! And thy words

Are more for peril than a thousand swords!

Is it king's custom to bear two men's scorn

In the short compass of a single morn?

Go to thine house and wait until thou know

The king's hand follows when his voice says, Go."

Ben Ali from the court went forth in shame,

And after him the shivering Afghan came,

Whom, taking by the garment, he led down

Through the packed highways of the busy town,

To where in flowers and shadows, peace and pride,

His gardened palace by the river side

Lay like a lotus in perfumed repose;

There set a feast for him as for the king,

With friendly words and courteous welcoming

Sat with the ragged Afghan, while beneath

The dancing girls, each with her jasmine wreath,—

And one that dallied with a crimson rose,—

Sang softly in the garden cool, that sank.

By lawn and terrace to the river's bank:

"So dear thou art,

The seed that thou hast planted in the mould

And fertile fallow of my heart

Hath borne a thousand-fold,

So dear thou art.

"Sweet love, wild love,

Love will I sow and love will reap,

And where the golden harvest bends above

There will I find sleep,

Sweet love, child love."

And when the feast was over, and remained

Only the fruits, and wine in flasks contained,

And costly drinking cups, Ben Ali rose

And left the chattering Afghan with a smile,

To walk among his aloe trees awhile,

Thinking: "Day closes. Ere another close

These things I see no more, for a king's wrath

Leaps foaming down and falls, as cataracts leap

And fall from sleeping pools to pools asleep,

And either ere to-morrow night I die,

Or all my days in exiled penury

Among strange peoples tread the strangers' path."

And while in shadows with slow pace he went

The ruddy daylight faded in the west,

And she that held the rose against her breast

Sang to the stirring of some instrument:

"The sea

That rounds in gloom

The pallid pearl,

Where corals curl

The rosy edges of their barren bloom,

And cold seamaidens wear

Inwoven in their hair

A light that draws the sailor down the wet ways of

despair,

In whose green silken glisten

They drift and wait and listen,

And the sea-monsters lift their heads and stare!

The sorrowing sea,

Like life in me,

Wavers in homeless dreams till love is known

And love for life atone."

Meanwhile the Afghan, glancing here and there,

Saw no one by him, and arose in haste,

And took the drinking cups with jewels graced,

And hid them in his rags, from stair to stair

Slid like a shadow, and from hall to hall;

So vanished, like a shadow from the wall.

Ben Ali from his aloe-planted lawn

Returned, and saw the drinking cups were gone,

And smiled and leaned him in the window dim

To watch the dancing girls, who, seeing him

Began again to weave, to part, to close,

With tinkling bells and shimmer of white feet,

And she that drooped her head above a rose

Sang in the twilight, languid, slow, and sweet:

"Close-curtained rose,

Open thy petals and the dew disclose.

Hide not so long

Those crimson shades among,

In silken splendour

That nestling tender,

That dewdrop cradled in the heart of thee,

God meant for me.

"A little while,

And naught to me the blossom of thy smile.

Forgive all men;

Yea, love, forgive the false and trust again,

For life deceiveth,

And love believeth;

Within love's merciful chambers let us stay,

The while we may."

The singing ceased. There rose a storm of calls

And sudden clangour in his outer halls;

And these were hushed, and some one cried: "The

king!"

Followed the tread of armed men entering.

Ben Ali rose, thinking, "My time was brief;"

And lo, not only the tall king stood there,

His bracelets glittering in the torches' glare,

And gloomy eyes beneath his sweeping hair,

But at his feet cringed the swart Afghan thief.

"Thus saith the law: 'The thief shall have his hands

Struck from his wrists, in payment of the wage

Belonging to his sin.' The king commands

THE KING.

That thou, Ben Ali, wisdom's flower in youth,

Mirror of righteousness and well of truth,

Critic of kings, rebuker of old age,

Shalt judge this Afghan dog as the law stands."

Ben Ali stood with folded arms, and face

Bent down in meditation for a space.

BEN ALI.

"It is good law, O King. But is it not

Good law that, 'He who stealeth to devote

To some religious purpose and intent

Is held exempted from that punishment'?"

THE KING.

"It is good law. But the law holds 'Unproved

The finer motive which the thief hath moved

Unless the pious dedication be

Sequent immediate to the thievery.'"

BEN ALI.

"It is good law, O King, and good to heed.

Now, of 'religious purposes' it calls

First, 'to relieve the needy of their need.'

Can it be doubted that this Afghan falls

Among the 'needy,' and became a thief

To his own need's immediate relief?

Nay, in the very act of thieving vowed