The Poetry Corner

The Souls' Rising.

By George MacDonald

See how the storm of life ascends Up through the shadow of the world! Beyond our gaze the line extends, Like wreaths of vapour tempest-hurled! Grasp tighter, brother, lest the storm Should sweep us down from where we stand, And we may catch some human form We know, amongst the straining band. See! see in yonder misty cloud One whirlwind sweep, and we shall hear The voice that waxes yet more loud And louder still approaching near! Tremble not, brother, fear not thou, For yonder wild and mystic strain Will bring before us strangely now The visions of our youth again! Listen! oh listen! See how its eyeballs roll and glisten With a wild and fearful stare Upwards through the shining air, Or backwards with averted look, As a child were gazing at a book Full of tales of fear and dread, When the thick night-wind came hollow and dead. Round about it, wavering and light. As the moths flock round a candle at night, A crowd of phantoms sheeted and dumb Strain to its words as they shrilly come: Brother, my brother, dost thou hear? They pierce through the tumult sharp and clear! "The rush of speed is on my soul, My eyes are blind with things I see; I cannot grasp the awful whole, I cannot gird the mystery! The mountains sweep like mist away; The great sea shakes like flakes of fire; The rush of things I cannot see Is mounting upward higher and higher! Oh! life was still and full of calm In yonder spot of earthly ground, But now it rolls a thunder-psalm, Its voices drown my ear in sound! Would God I were a child again To nurse the seeds of faith and power; I might have clasped in wisdom then A wing to beat this awful hour! The dullest things would take my marks-- They took my marks like drifted snow-- God! how the footsteps rise in sparks, Rise like myself and onward go! Have pity, O ye driving things That once like me had human form! For I am driven for lack of wings A shreddy cloud before the storm!" How its words went through me then, Like a long forgotten pang, Till the storm's embrace again Swept it far with sudden clang!-- Ah, methinks I see it still! Let us follow it, my brother, Keeping close to one another, Blessing God for might of will! Closer, closer, side by side! Ours are wings that deftly glide Upwards, downwards, and crosswise Flashing past our ears and eyes, Splitting up the comet-tracks With a whirlwind at our backs! How the sky is blackening! Yet the race is never slackening; Swift, continual, and strong, Streams the torrent slope along, Like a tidal surge of faces Molten into one despair; Each the other now displaces, A continual whirl of spaces; Ah, my fainting eyesight reels As I strive in vain to stare On a thousand turning wheels Dimly in the gloom descending, Faces with each other blending!-- Let us beat the vapours back, We are yet upon his track. Didst thou see a spirit halt Upright on a cloudy peak, As the lightning's horrid fault Smote a gash into the cheek Of the grinning thunder-cloud Which doth still besiege and crowd Upward from the nether pits Where the monster Chaos sits, Building o'er the fleeing rack Roofs of thunder long and black? Yes, I see it! I will shout Till I stop the horrid rout. Ho, ho! spirit-phantom, tell Is thy path to heaven or hell? We would hear thee yet again, What thy standing amongst men, What thy former history, And thy hope of things to be! Wisdom still we gain from hearing: We would know, we would know Whither thou art steering-- Unto weal or woe! Ah, I cannot hear it speaking! Yet it seems as it were seeking Through our eyes our souls to reach With a quaint mysterious speech, As with stretched and crossing palms One were tracing diagrams On the ebbing of the beach, Till with wild unmeasured dance All the tiptoe waves advance, Seize him by the shoulder, cover, Turn him up and toss him over: He is vanished from our sight, Nothing mars the quiet night Save a speck of gloom afar Like the ruin of a star! Brother, streams it ever so, Such a torrent tide of woe? Ah, I know not; let us haste Upwards from this dreary waste, Up to where like music flowing Gentler feet are ever going, Streams of life encircling run Round about the spirit-sun! Up beyond the storm and rush With our lesson let us rise! Lo, the morning's golden flush Meets us midway in the skies! Perished all the dream and strife! Death is swallowed up of Life!