Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WALLS OF JERICHO, by JAMES RORTY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE WALLS OF JERICHO, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Watchman, what is your word
Last Line: And de walls come a-tumblin' down.
Subject(s): Bible; Spiritual Healing; Faith-cure


(The words of this poem are intended to be spoken as an obligato to the
Negro spiritual, "Joshua Fit de Battle ob Jericho," the music of which is first
heard as a faint humming accompaniment to the opening stanzas and gradually
swells to a forte chorus at the end.)

Watchman, what is your word?
The night is quiet, but that white stone
That rolls above the city is the same
Unpitying moon that shone
On Nineveh, on Babylon
After the kings were gone.

Watchman, what do you hear?
I hear the frantic voice of the unseen
Incessant whippoorwill that raves
Of something lost; but it can mean
Nothing; it has never been.

Watchman, what do you see?
I see the outpost's fire that flickers red
Between the city and the dark; the black
Fagot wherewith the flame was fed,
Screamed for a while and bled.
Now it is dead.

Watchman, why do you shake?
I shake because there is no rain
To quench that fire, as they well know
Who kindled it; there will remain
Always the pain;
Something unslain.

Watchman, what of our city?
All's well and the streets are bright;
Few felt the cold when we achieved
Our heatless miracle of light.
Like ghosts bedight
They walk in light.

Watchman, our singers sleep!
Not so, but their frozen lips are sealed,
And though they break with furious hands
The altars where they kneeled,
Plow there is none to wield,
Barren is the field.

Watchman, our priests are fled!
Not so, they have gathered all
To the battlements; they shout and fling
Bread at the gates that the tall
Towers may stand, and the wall
May not fall.

Watchman, they come to slay!
Not so, there is no magic in the sword
Can slay what never lived.
Even so was poured
From heaven the word
Of the Lord.

Watchman, they march with songs!
Yes, they come singing; are we then so proud
Of our white silence? Yes, they come
Laughing and loud.
Unarmed, unbowed.

Watchman, your lips do move!
Yes, for I see the great walls fling
Their stones upon the plain,
And we too sing.

Joshua fit de Battle ob Jericho,
Jericho, Jericho.
Joshua fit de Battle ob Jericho,
And de walls come a-tumblin' down.





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