Poems (Commelin)/Isolation
ISOLATION.
A young soul sought to wander from the path
Where trod her mates. "Oh, come," she said to these,
"Into some new, broad way, where open out
More light and freedom, where the secrets strange
Of life and death, and mystery of birth
May be revealed. The milestones, worn and old
And time-stained, on the narrow, beaten road,
I read not." But they would not follow her.
"Stay with us," they said, "the path is narrow
And no view on either side. The hedges
Dense shut off the vista wide, but many feet
Have trod the road, and found their peace at last—
Thy fathers and our fathers and our friends,—
And at the end is certainty and rest."
She asked no more, but softly to herself
She said, "My love will climb those heights with me,"
And, ere the honeymoon had waned, she led
His willing feet out to the open way
Where winds blew fresh and free, and sunny skies
Had charmed her sight. "I breathe, at length," she said,
As, hand in hand, they wandered on to seek
The upland path. And sense of freedom first
Exultant filled their hearts, and new-found joy
That larger prospect grand might be revealed.
But by and by, when they had wandered far,
And sat upon the greensward, side by side,
He said, "Here let us rest, nor farther seek,
Content with love and this fair scene below,
Nor follow out the dizzy path beyond:
Already thorns have pierced thy tender flesh."
"'Tis beautiful," she said, "but fain would I
Go on with thee until my questionings
May find reward, more light, more certainty
Of all the bright beyond." "'Tis far enough,"
He said, "the path grows rough and steep, and on
Forever mayest thou go, nor understand
More clear than now." So down the mountain slope
They took their way. The years sped swiftly on,
And children sweet made glad their hearth-stone warm:
But oft she thought upon the mountain view,
And longed to see. Too thorny was the road
For little feet. She could not take them there;
But oft to friends she spoke of her desire,
And one would say, "I go part way with thee";
And one, "Thou goest far: it is not meet
For any": and yet another, "Seek not
What lies beyond that dizzy height at all."
But most said, "Safer is the olden road:
Return, ere it is yet too late for thee."
But once her longing mastered all her fears,
And on she sped beyond the thorny steep,
And up the heights she pressed, with bleeding feet,
To see no limit to the vast beyond,
Life, death, and mystery of being yet
All unrevealed! Night cometh on apace.
Where trod her mates. "Oh, come," she said to these,
"Into some new, broad way, where open out
More light and freedom, where the secrets strange
Of life and death, and mystery of birth
May be revealed. The milestones, worn and old
And time-stained, on the narrow, beaten road,
I read not." But they would not follow her.
"Stay with us," they said, "the path is narrow
And no view on either side. The hedges
Dense shut off the vista wide, but many feet
Have trod the road, and found their peace at last—
Thy fathers and our fathers and our friends,—
And at the end is certainty and rest."
She asked no more, but softly to herself
She said, "My love will climb those heights with me,"
And, ere the honeymoon had waned, she led
His willing feet out to the open way
Where winds blew fresh and free, and sunny skies
Had charmed her sight. "I breathe, at length," she said,
As, hand in hand, they wandered on to seek
The upland path. And sense of freedom first
Exultant filled their hearts, and new-found joy
That larger prospect grand might be revealed.
But by and by, when they had wandered far,
And sat upon the greensward, side by side,
He said, "Here let us rest, nor farther seek,
Content with love and this fair scene below,
Nor follow out the dizzy path beyond:
Already thorns have pierced thy tender flesh."
"'Tis beautiful," she said, "but fain would I
Go on with thee until my questionings
May find reward, more light, more certainty
Of all the bright beyond." "'Tis far enough,"
He said, "the path grows rough and steep, and on
Forever mayest thou go, nor understand
More clear than now." So down the mountain slope
They took their way. The years sped swiftly on,
And children sweet made glad their hearth-stone warm:
But oft she thought upon the mountain view,
And longed to see. Too thorny was the road
For little feet. She could not take them there;
But oft to friends she spoke of her desire,
And one would say, "I go part way with thee";
And one, "Thou goest far: it is not meet
For any": and yet another, "Seek not
What lies beyond that dizzy height at all."
But most said, "Safer is the olden road:
Return, ere it is yet too late for thee."
But once her longing mastered all her fears,
And on she sped beyond the thorny steep,
And up the heights she pressed, with bleeding feet,
To see no limit to the vast beyond,
Life, death, and mystery of being yet
All unrevealed! Night cometh on apace.