His prize from tidal battles lost or won,
Reveals the
scheme to
animate his race:
How that it is a
warfare but begun;
Unending; with no Power to interpose;
No prayer, save for strength to keep his ground,
Heard of the Highest; never battle's close,
The
victory" target="_blank" title="n.胜利,战胜">
victory complete and
victor crowned:
Nor
solace in defeat, save from that sense
Of strength well spent, which is the strength renewed.
In
manhood must he find his competence;
In his clear mind the
spiritual food:
God being there while he his fight maintains;
Throughout his mind the Master Mind being there,
While he rejects the
suicide despair;
Accepts the spur of explicable pains;
Obedient to Nature, not her slave:
Her lord, if to her rigid laws he bows;
Her dust, if with his
conscience he plays knave,
And bids the Passions on the Pleasures browse:-
Whence Evil in a world unread before;
That
mystery to simple springs resolved.
His God the Known, diviner to adore,
Shows Nature's
savage riddles kindly solved.
Inconscient, in
sensitive, she reigns
In iron laws, though rapturous fair her face.
Back to the primal brute shall he retrace
His path, doth he permit to force her chains
A soft Persuader coursing through his veins,
An icy Huntress stringing to the chase:
What one the flash disdains;
What one so gives it grace.
But is he
rightly manful in her eyes,
A splendid bloodless
knight to gain the skies,
A blood-hot son of Earth by all her signs,
Desireing and desireable he shines;
As peaches, that have caught the sun's uprise
And kissed warm gold till
noonday, even as vines.
Earth fills him with her juices, without fear
That she will cast him
drunken down the steeps.
All woman is she to this man most dear;
He sows for bread, and she in spirit reaps:
She conscient, she
sensitive, in him;
With him enwound, his brave
ambition hers:
By him humaner made; by his keen spurs
Pricked to race past the pride in giant limb,
Her crazy
adoration of big thews,
Proud in her primal sons, when crags they hurled,
Were
thunder spitting lightnings on the world
In daily deeds, and she their evening Muse.
This man, this hero, works not to destroy;
This godlike--as the rock in ocean stands; -
He of the
myriad eyes, the
myriad hands
Creative; in his
edifice has joy.
How strength may serve for
purity is shown
When he himself can
scourge to make it clean.
Withal his pitch of pride would not disown
A sober world that walks the balanced mean
Between its tempters,
rarely overthrown:
And such at times his army's march has been.
Near is he to great Nature in the thought
Each changing Season
intimately saith,
That
nought save
apparition knows the death;
To the God-lighted mind of man 'tis
nought.
She counts not loss a word of any weight;
It may befal his passions and his greeds
To lose their treasures, like the vein that bleeds,
But life gone
breathless will she reinstate.
Close on the heart of Earth his bosom beats,
When he the
mandate lodged in it obeys,
Alive to breast a future wrapped in haze,