POETRY.
SPRING SOLITUDE.
YouNG Bartimaeus, lately given sight, In wonder at all life Ceased following his Lord, Through whom such light Had pierced the dark at speaking of a word.
And as he passed spring-mad by wood -and field, Those who had heard his tale Decried ingratitude, That he'd not yield To serve the Lord and minister His good.
They were grown used to flowers and the sun, Faces of girls and boys, Snow on the mountain sides ; Since life begun Scarce noted moonlight on the wavering tides.
But Bartiimaeus, like a prisoner freed, In fierce delight amazed And speechless seized on all ; With fiery greed, Made one with burst of spring and autumn's fall.
Clothed himself round with colours of the land, Sank into heaven's blue, Until it lapped him close ; With trembling hand Reached out to snatch its beauty from the rose And make it more his own. In the sunset West He drank gold glory in, And with the boisterous gale On mountain crest, Shouted to see the cloud-ships onward sail.
He brooded with the silence of the sea, Rushed on with Jordan's rage, And soared with birds on high, Swayed with each tree, And wept with winter when the flowers must die.
And on a naked mountain-top at length Stretched arms out wide and fell Face earthward in amaze ; With new-found strength Chanted to God triumphant hymns of praise.
After he looked for beauty down with men.
He'd heard of old of sin, While blindness kept him clean ; Now fresh again, First heard, then saw and cursed what eyes had seen.
Yet so was filled with beauty of his vision He fired the earth-bound too ; Till who had once decried, Forgot derision, Seeing Christ reflected even when crucified.
JoliN
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