Ballads of Battle/The Combat

by Joseph Lee

THE COMBAT

"For I am fearfully and wonderfully made."

I with my mouth must munch my food,
Even as the monster in the wood,
And yet, dear heart, my lips to thine
Have clung in ecstasies divine!

I feel my ribs like prison-bars,
And still, I comprehend the stars;
Through the white mas'nry of my bones
A sleepless spirit stalks and groans!

This pulsing heart is all afire
With passion and with wild desire,
And still, I turn dim yearning eyes
Thrice daily to the unanswering skies,

I have in me to burn and slay—
And yet a little child will lay
Its soft warm cheek upon my cheek,
And I, as it, am mild and meek!

The hunger of the wolf I have,
And yet, I hunger most for love,
And often have I wept to scan
The misery of my brother-man.

I hear, within the forest wild,
A whispering: Thou art our child!
And yet, again I hear a call
Within the vast Cathedral.

Oft have I clasped thee in my arms,
And loved thee for thy woman's charms;
Yet have I sought, and seemed to see
And love, a woman's soul in thee!

The fleshly lust, the pride of life,
The joyaunce in a selfish strife,
The din of battle in my ear—
And yet a still small voice I hear!

I would not do the thing I would,
I shun the evil, seek the good;
Comes prompting from the past: You must!
And pulls me backward in the dust.

My hands are clawed to clutch and keep;
My eyes grow heavy unto sleep,
I crouch beneath a poor roof-tree,
I wake—and I am still with Thee.

I know that when I come to die,
My bones all strawed about shall lie;
The hand that fashioned shall annul
This cunning sculpture of my skull.

O Thou behind that outmost star,
Have mercy if Thy plans we mar,
For lo! we know not what we are!

I with my mouth must munch my food
Like uncouth creatures in the wood,
Yet from my lips what prayers arise
Alway to the unanswering skies!