ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
writest thou?The vision raisd its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answerd, The names
of those who love the Lord.
And is mine one? said Abou. Nay, not so,
Replied the angel. Abou spoke
But cheerly still; and said, I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow men.
angel wrote, and vanishd. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showd the names
whom love of God had blest,
And lo! Ben Adhems name led all the rest.
TO A FISH
YOU strange, astonished-looking, angle-faced,
Dreary-mouthed, gaping wretches of the sea,
Cold-blooded, though with red your blood be graced,
And mute, though dwellers,
in the roaring waste;
And you, all shapes beside, that fishy be,
Some round, some flat, some long, all
Legless, unloving, infamously chaste:
O scaly, slippery, wet, swift, staring wights,
What ist ye
do? What life lead? eh, dull goggles?
How do ye vary your vile days and nights?
How pass your Sundays?
Are ye still but joggles
In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes, and bites,
And drinks, and stares, diversified
A FISH ANSWERS
Amazing monster! that, for aught I know,
With the first sight of thee didst make our race
ever stare! O flat and shocking face,
Grimly divided from the breast below!
Thou that on dry land horribly
With a split body and most ridiculous pace,
Prong after prong, disgracer of all grace,
finned, haired, upright, unwet, slow!
O breather of unbreathable, sword-sharp air,
How canst exist? How bear thyself, thou dry
dreary sloth? What particle canst share
Of the only blessed life, the watery?
I sometimes see of ye an
Go by! linked fin by fin! most odiously.
THE FISH TURNS INTO A MAN, AND THEN INTO A SPIRIT, AND
Indulge thy smiling scorn, if smiling still,
O man! and loathe, but with a sort of love;
must its use by difference prove,
And, in sweet clang, the spheres with music fill.
One of the spirits am I,
that at his will
Live in whateer has lifefish, eagle, dove
No hate, no pride, beneath nought, nor above,
visitor of the rounds of Gods sweet skill.
Mans life is warm, glad, sad, twixt loves and graves,
Boundless in hope, honoured with pangs
Heaven-gazing; and his angel-wings he craves:
The fish is swift, small-needing, vague yet clear,
cold, sweet, silver life, wrapped in round waves,
Quickened with touches of transporting fear.
JENNY kissd me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;
Time, you thief, who love
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say Im weary, say Im sad,
Say that health and wealth have missd
Say Im growing old, but add,
Jenny kissd me.