Canto 6 (In silence now they pensive win…)

In silence now they pensive win A slope of upland over hill Eastward, where heaven and earth be twin In quiet, and earth seems heaven's sill. About a hamlet there full low, Nor cedar, palm, nor olive show— Three trees by ancient legend claimed As those whereof the cross was framed. Nor dairy white, nor well-curb green, Nor cheerful husbandry was seen, Though flinty tillage might be named: Nor less if all showed strange and lone The peace of God seemed settled down: Mary and Martha's mountain-town. To Rolfe the priest said, breathing low: "How placid! Carmel's beauty here, If added, could not more endear."— Rolfe spake not, but he bent his brow. Aside glanced Clarel on the face Of meekness; and he mused: In thee Methinks similitude I trace To Nature's look in Bethany. But, ah, and can one dream the dream That hither thro' the shepherds' gate, Even by the road we traveled late, Came Jesus from Jerusalem, Who pleased him so in fields and bowers, Yes, crowned with thorns, still loved the flowers? Poor gardeners here that turned the sod Friends were they to the Son of God? And shared He e'en their humble lot?

The sisters here in pastoral plot Green to the door—did they yield rest, And bathe the feet, and spread the board For Him, their own and brother's guest, The kindly Christ, even man's fraternal Lord? But see: how with a wandering hand,

In absent-mindedness afloat, And dreaming of his fairy-land, Nehemiah smooths the ass's coat.