Festus

whose separate and combined ends
Have still to be evolved. How wide men miss,
While in the lower world of soul and sense,
In aiming even at life-ruling Truth⁠—
Formless as air, simple and one as Death.
If Heaven and all its stars depend on earth,
Then may eternity on time;⁠—not else.
But since now earth is as a crumb of Heaven,
And time an atom of eternity,
Neither depends upon the other, both
One essence being emanant from God,
Whose flowings forth are aye and infinite,
And radiant as the rivers of the skies.
One only truth hath consequence, God’s truth
Inspirited in man. Mere human truth
Or falsehood matters not. The world may act,
Believe, or bless, or curse, as best it lists.
Yet men expend life, solemnizing points
Uncertain as the site of Paradise
And area of Hades. Not the less,
There is no disappointment we endure
One half so great as that we are to ourselves.
We make our hearts the centres of all hopes,
All powers, all rewards, remembering not
That centres are imaginary points.
Imaginary circles only too
Are perfect; therefore, draw life as we may,
Bound as a world, or as an atom round,
And pure as virgin visionary’s dream,
Or perfect faith’s regenerative wave⁠—
It fails to match the true invisible
Whereof we labor. It is come to this.
One state of life with me hath passed away.
Aught henceforth that may matter be of doubt
To me is matter of indifference. I
Love only that is certain. Me no more
The spirits of the bright invisible
Shall throng round as the winds some mountain-top;
Nor watery lightfulness of ghostly eyes,
Belonging heavenly forms informed with light,
Impose their spell of record under pain.
The inspiration quits me⁠—it is gone⁠—
Like a retreating army from the land
Which it hath wasted⁠—the long gleaming mass,
Snakelike, at last hath wound itself away,
And left me weak and wretched. None again
Of all the starry tribes of shining mien⁠—
Swifter than undulations of the light,
A million in a moment, multiform
As atomies of air, shall visit me;
Their word of leave is taken back⁠—henceforth,
Restricted to perfection, earth they quit.
True, albeit, I loved them more than life;
I felt myself made sacred by their touch:⁠—
But they are gone, and there is nought on earth
Left acceptable. Fiery shadows, hence!
I have outbraved ye once. It matters not.
I have left all for one; Truth’s countless rays
For Truth itself; the mean for the supreme,
The dubitable for the throned power.
Yet thus I cannot rest. The mightiest sphere
Is not for man. The elements of mind
And matter are proportioned in all worlds;
The father they and mother of all things.
And earth hath favour over crowds of stars.
I must reseek earth. Still what boots it now,
To plunge in pleasure or to passion bow,
The very lion-honey of the heart
Which dwelleth in corruption? Yet, perchance,
’Twere wisdom to extract it while we may.
The oak, as lily, feels the lightest breeze.
The ineradicable seed is sown
Of love in life, and tide-like ’twill have way
O’er the impalaced prisoner of the breast.
The thirst for power and knowledge still exist,
And meet with dizzy mixture in the brain.
If suffering could expiate offence,
They who have most enjoyed have most atoned,
It may be, humanly;⁠—but it cannot.
Earth-like, the heart must undergo all change
Ere the superior life be formed therein,
The chastity of heart which loves but God.
Life’s sensuous warmth, the spirit’s holy chill,
Time’s week-day work, have yet to be gone through.
The hortus siccus of a Paradise
Is all earth now can boast. To God belongs
The autumn of all nature. But, alas!
Not yet can we o’ercome our nature here,
Would we. If therefore passion strike the heart,
Let it have length of line and plenteous play.
The safety of superior principles
Lies in exhaustion of the lower ones,
However vast or violent. Men and angels
Obey the order of existence. Fate!
Who seeks thee everywhere, will find thee there.

XXVI

Scene⁠—A drawing room.

	Festus and Elissa.
Festus	Who says he loves and is not wretched, lies; Or that love is madness came mad from his mother. ’Tis the most reasonable thing in nature. What can we do but love? It is our cup. Love is the cross and passion of the heart, Its end⁠—its errand. In the name of God, What made us love, Elissa?
Elissa	I know not. I am not happy. I have wept all day.
Festus	’Twas thine own fault. What wouldst thou have of me? I tell thee we must⁠—no, I cannot tell thee. Nor can I bear those tears. Thou know’st I love thee, Worship thee; oh! it’s a world more than worship, The cold obedience which we give to God. Elissa! turn to me!
Elissa	I cannot. Go!⁠—
Festus	Thou hadst no need, no business to have loved me. One loved thee well.
Elissa	I could not help his loving Me, nor my loving thee. It was our fate.
Festus	Then Fate hath fee’d the passion for our death, And we are sold.
Elissa	Well! Let us die together. Together we will quit our bodies here.
Festus	Together will we go to God and judgment.
Elissa	Festus! I will, I can love none but thee.
Festus	Thou must not.
Elissa	But I must. I cannot help it. Look at me⁠—heart and arms, I am thine own. Thou knowest I am and have been. Wilt not love me? Festus! mine own and only! wilt thou not? Have I done nothing, suffered and abandoned Nothing for thee? Oh! I was happy once; Ere I knew thee. Why wast thou kind to me? Cruelly kind⁠—or this had never been. But now thou mayst be cruel if thou wilt. Hate me! still I am thine: disown me, thine! Desert me! no⁠—thou canst not. I am thine; I am! look at me, Festus! look at me! I am half blind with weeping; and mine eyes Have not a tear left in them. But I know How it will end. Thou wilt leave me as I am⁠— Loveless and lonely.
Festus	Nay, not so; my love Shall aye be with thee, and my soul with both. But we must part! Think that I come again.
Elissa	Not be again with thee! nor thou with me! It is too much. Let me go mad or die.
Festus	Live, mine Elissa! and thou shalt live with me, And I will love thee ever as I now love. Wilt thou?
Elissa	Oh! make me happy! say I may Believe thee.
Festus	May? Thou must.
Elissa	Say it again! I cannot