English poem
Poem 126 (It went adown the dusty road…)
by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge (1861–1907)
It went adown the dusty road, Whence there is no recall; None may bear another's load, For the load is borne by all.
"Some of the souls escape and fly, Tho' the grave to us be dumb, They do not know what it is to die, For they make the world-to-come.
"And see, of the death of the body of man Is made the wholesome earth, The sun will shine and the wind will fan And flowers be brought to birth.
"There's many a bough that greenlier swings Where he hath measured his span, But, tell me, where is the flower that springs From the death of the soul of man?"
Then was I ware of a little child, With eyes that I could not see; For all they were so gentle and mild, They shook the heart in me.
As he stood beneath the tree of thorn, Under the dazzling blue, He was all the men that ever were born, And all the women too.
The roses twined around his feet, The birds about him sang, And all the beasts of the field to greet Their lord and master sprang.
Of the rotten souls to earth that fell Is made this awful flower; And he rules the living, straight from hell, With the very devil's power.
More by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
- Poem 113 ("Nature, be thou my monitress!" I…)
- Poem 114 (Whether it was the outward eye…)
- Poem 118 (What blindness is it that doth…)
- Poem 122 (If you were true, we still…)
- Poem 128 (The clock is busy Man with…)
- Poem 129 (Why must thou, Wind, the silent…)
- Poem 133 (Utter the praise of ancestors like…)
- Poem 140 (But that which conquered thee and…)