Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE FIRSTBORN, by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE FIRSTBORN, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: The boats are in
Last Line: Miriam. And our son.


Persons:

DAVID ELLIOT.
MIRIAM ELLIOT, his wife.

Scene: DAVID ELLIOT'S cottage. MIRIAM ELLIOT stands by
the open door, looking out.

MIRIAM. The Boats are in;
And I...
I dare not go to meet him.
I wouldn't have him hear the tidings
From other lips than mine --
His wife's...
And yet,
How shall I tell him --
I, his wife!
How shall I say:
"Husband, you have no son;
For I, his mother --
I have let him die
While you were toiling for him on the deep?"
Perhaps they'll break the news to him,
Before he...
Nay, but he must learn it here --
Here, in his home,
And only from my lips,
Lest he should blench, and tremble, in the street,
Or turn upon the speaker in blind fury.
I think he'll not be fierce with me:
Though he's so passionate,
And loves the child
Beyond all else.
He knows I, too,
Love...
And yet,
When all is told,
I nevermore shall dare
To look into his eyes.
His step...
He comes.
DAVID [entering]. Well, wife, I'm home.
Have you no word of welcome?
Come, kiss me, wife.
MIRIAM. Nay, not till you know all.
DAVID. Know all...
Then it is true...
Wife, I know all.
[Kisses her.]
MIRIAM. Some one has told you?
DAVID. Nay;
I did not learn it, Miriam,
From mortal lips.
Before we reached the quay,
My heart already feared;
And when I saw no face among the throng
To welcome me,
I knew the boy was dead --
That he had died
The night I saw him, cradled in the foam.
MIRIAM. You saw him, David!
DAVID. Yes, I saw him, wife,
Aslumber in the hollow of a wave.
'Twas on a Friday night,
A fortnight since...
MIRIAM. The night he died!
DAVID. Yes, wife; I saw him die.
MIRIAM. You saw him die?
DAVID. 'Twas on the Friday night
When we sailed out,
Beneath a cloudy moon,
To shoot the nets,
As, standing in the bow,
I watched the heaving waters,
My glance lit on a patch of foam
That held my gaze
Until it took a baby's form.
And all at once
I knew that it was he,
Our little David,
Who lay sleeping there.
And as the moon flashed out
I saw, more clearly,
His dear, white dimpling body --
One wee arm,
Curled on his breast,
The other, stretched towards me,
Although he seemed to sleep;
And, on his brow, his hair,
As ruddy as the new-dipt sails --
Your hair he had, wife,
Though his eyes were mine --
His ruddy hair gleamed brightly,
Unwetted by the waves.
And as I looked on him,
My heart went cold.
And still I could not draw my eyes away,
Until the moon went in,
And he had slipt from sight,
Although I strained across the glooming waters
For one more glimpse of that foam-cradled form.
And then we reached the fishing ground;
And I -- I turned to work,
Although my heart was sore --
My heart, that knew too surely
All was not well with them I loved.
MIRIAM. That night,
I watched beside him as he slept;
One little arm was curled upon his breast,
The other stretched towards me;
His ruddy hair drooped o'er his brow.
He slept.
But in the end...
DAVID. Ah, God, I know!
For, as we hauled the nets,
I saw his body, tangled in the mesh --
His little body, struggling,
Frail and white,
Among the silver herring.
My heart stood still.
I could not stir,
Nor utter cry.
But, as the nets came in,
I knew that there was nothing in the mesh
Save lashing fish;
And, as we shook it out,
Naught flashed beneath the moon,
Or tumbled in the hold,
Save the live quivering heap of silver herring.
A heavy catch they said.
But I -- how should I know?
MIRIAM. Ah, husband, how he struggled
Ere he died!
He fought so hard --
So hard for life....
And I....
I could do nothing for him --
I, his mother.
David, you know my love for him.
My heart has well-nigh died with him.
You do not blame...
DAVID. Nay, wife;
For he was taken in the nets;
And I, his father,
Could not set him free.
We could do nothing, Miriam.
Once again,
I saw him, ere the dawning,
And once more,
He nestled in the hollow of a wave,
Foam-white amid the foam.
His little hands were clasped upon his breast,
And then I knew he slumbered peacefully,
And would not wake again.
The day broke,
And I never saw him more.
MIRIAM. He slumbered peacefully;
His little hands were clasped upon his breast,
I watched with him till dawn.
DAVID. And my heart watched with you.
MIRIAM. And we are left without him.
DAVID. But we are left together, wife --
We two...
MIRIAM. We two...
And we three were so happy,
Together, husband!
Oh, why should he leave us?
For he was always happy,
Till the end...
DAVID. Yes, he was always happy;
His little life was full of happiness.
Perhaps it's for the best
That he's not lived to look,
As all must look,
Some day or other, on unhappiness.
He brought so much;
And, though he's gone so suddenly,
He has not taken all away with him.
We still have memories.
MIRIAM. But memory is bitter.
DAVID. Can thought of him be anything but sweet?
Do you remember, wife, when he was born,
Two years ago,
How I was out at sea?
My heart was filled with fear for you,
And hankered to be home.
The wind and tide
Were dead against us:
But my will was strong,
And when I saw our chosen signal --
A snow-white kerchief by the chimney-stack --
Waving me welcome, with the welcome word,
That you were safely through,
And unto me a son was born --
Wife, I was mad for home,
And crazed to run the boat
Against the odds of wind and water,
Though other signals warned us from the shore.
What did I care!
My mates were daft with fear,
And cried out, we'd be dashed to death
Upon the Devil's Tooth,
But more they feared my eyes --
My eyes that saw your signal,
Aflutter with fair welcome;
And we rode in,
Against the odds of wind and wave;
And folk ran down to greet us,
As if we had been snatched from death;
Though I --
I did not heed them,
But leapt ashore,
And ran to you --
To you, who'd come through peril, too,
And won safe into harbour.
And then I saw the babe,
Our little son,
That snuggled to your breast,
And nestled in my heart.
MIRIAM. My bosom yearns for him...
Your heart will evermore be empty.
DAVID. Nay, wife, nay!
Shall not your breast and mine
Be ever full of love of him?
Sweet memories of him
Shall nestle in our hearts,
For evermore,
And we have still each other.
MIRIAM. And our son.





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