Classic and Contemporary Poetry
OLD TESTAMENT, by JOHN FREEMAN Poet's Biography First Line: I slept awhile, then woke. The night was wild Last Line: Thy breast would still me, sharper yet my pain. Subject(s): Bible - Old Testament | ||||||||
I SLEPT awhile, then woke. The night was wild With the high East Wind's howlinga black hound That snarled, and rattled at the casement latch, And shook dry mortars down the twisted flue. Hound answered hound and both together lifted Harsh angry notes, and sadder notes that filled The hapless ear with fright. I slept and waked at whiles, all hours, and heard The howling though I slept. At last, asleep or waking, all was hushed And from the hush and dark Childish familiar images, ghosts of the nights Of childish loneliness, wonders and fears, Terrors that drummed my heart then echoing now The aching drumming. Whose was that figure, tall Gray and still as a juniper at twilight? Lot's wife, Pillar of Salt, with blind face towards Sodom and Gomorrah smouldering in the Plain. Turn, turn, hoar frozen Pillar, turn yet thine eyes! Smouldering and guttering in the Plain they lie, A sullen bubble of fire, Sodom and Gomorrah, Abhorred and obscure names yet in my ears, As in my sight the sullen fiery worms That wrapped them strangling round ... Turn, turn thine eyes! And yet she stood, and stands, hoar Pillar of Salt. And now two figures climbed Moriah's steep, A young lad bearing wood: and an old man fire, With a bright knife at his thigh, who mournfully Upon the topmost mound heaved a new mound, With shaking purpled hands and eyes that filled. He laid the wood there, bound And laid the startled boy there, and uplifted The knifealready bloody in my eyes Ere plungeduntil a Voice shook from above, A dreadful Eye hung in the middle of heaven Pouring sharp rays upon the tawny Mount. O dreadful Eye, pursuing sleep and dreams And waking thought, From cloudless azure casting golden arrows Into every hole and noisome nook of fear, Fire-lidded Eye, fire-brow'd. 'Twas not the Voice, It was the Eye that sank Abraham down With another horror than the sacrifice, And Isaac prone upon the waiting pyre Burned by that Eye of fire. Whose that tall shape and shining sallow front, Beaked nose, black brush-like hair and hawk-like eyes, Lean callous figure by the river's waste Or desert waste casting his shadow on Myriad slaves? And what the dreadful cloud, Darkening and humming death, infinite hordes, Dusking Imperial Egypt's self with fear? Horde after horde, hosts of that angered God Whose smoky fire burned through the locust rivers, These like another fire ate substance up And left white famine in a desert of bones. Saw Pharaoh this dark cloud, and snuffed that fire Of famine? Now Elijah's ravens Flying to the brook to drink, beheld him prone, And dropped, as grim Jehovah bade, foul meats For the sad prophet's need, Who in the loneliness of loneliness Raised fleshless arms to plead For death, or the Lord's judgment on his foes. The ravens dropping offal, craking death, Black missive wings between starved earth and hell, Black wings that rose, Circled and fell Gave place and rose no more. Jordan's pale shallow stream it was and on the shore Tumult of wondering tongues; no ravens now, A dove between John and Jesus fluttering, Neck-ringed with black, and nimbus'd with pale flame, And tipt with sapphire flame the light-like wing, And treading fire when o'er the twain she hung Between the fierce face and the patient brow Of John and Jesus as they stood and parted. And then the raven wings, and notes Returned of desert throats. Maybe the wind was slaked awhile and slept, Or I slept though it raved; but as I turned The vixen East barked out anew and brought Voices again that muttered in childish sleep When sleep was innocent. Beneath a white Tower lay the tissued corpse Yet gleaming and yet warm with cunning blood. The city curs crept out and smelt the blood Oozing upon the supple golden tissue, Less supple than the breast and thighs beneath. Their yelping called new yelping and the dogs Of that dense kennel sprang and wrangled together, Their muzzles bloodied with the Queen's warm veins, While others stood and snarled, "Behold the Queen," And one leaned evil from the tower and snarled, "So ends Queen Jezebel, blessed be the Lord!" His sharp teeth gleaming like the writhing curs' That licked the blood and dust that late was hers. The blood and dust. I saw the cloud curl up Chasing the bronz'd wheels of the car that drew The corse of Hector soiled in the dust of Troy; Moody Achilles frowning as he threw His armour down like a discarded toy. And there Prince Absalom, murdered yet beloved, Hanging from the fatal tree, His long hair caught amid the ravaged boughs Of the sere festering wood, And gray-winged shafts amid his careless breast, Under the Judas tree. And other ghosts I saw King David casting dust upon his head, And Sheba's satraps decked on camel towers, And weary Solomon, wise and cold, Nodding on a throne of gold; Caesar's chill craft lined in his hueless smile, Great-helmèd Antony clamouring on Egypt's sands Beside the ageless Pyramids and old Nile ... Image with image self-confused, confusing, And in the wind's rage all old fears reviving, Terrors that startled childhood, quick and numbing, Again, the haunting drumming; And O, again, as once, again thy breast, Mother, that rocked my heart to rest; Though when I woke and knew that not again Thy breast would still me, sharper yet my pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PSALM 1. THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED CONTRASTED by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE A COMPENSATION by NORMAN ROWLAND GALE THE OLD BOOK by ABRAM SAMUEL ISAACS MY SONG FOR SOLOMON by BARBARA BLOCK ADAMS BATHSHEBA: LOOKING FORWARD, LOOKING BACK by GRACE BAUER |
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