Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HERE IS MUSIC: RESPICIT PHILOSOPHUS, by AUSTIN PHILIPS First Line: Boys, of my blood but whom Last Line: Send you god's truth, man's love. Subject(s): Philosophy & Philosophers; Youth | ||||||||
BOYS, of my blood but whom I ne'er have seen, shall see Never; since 'twixt you three And me, your kinsman, cold Cruel and manifold Gulfs lurkhard, harsh heirloom From that old man who strove Vainly to bend, to break (Narcissus-like, in nameless vanity) His eldest son, so make Him slave perpetuate, Spiritually eunuchate, Damned, doomed to drab, drear groove. ... What have you heard of me? What lies assail Your ears? What odious tale? Sons of my sisters (each Among them dupe and slave Of him who from his grave Strikes at his first-born: who, dead Lives on to-day in dread Stark influence, stays to reach, Drives daughters' minds as when He dwelt on earth, reigned, ruled At home in hateful tyranny, would rave Whene'er withstood, be-fool'd Broken and baffled me, Ached to make nullity Of natural gifts, and then Had me in hate because I saved my soul. ...) What falsehoods fog you, gull? Nephews unknown to me, What (when you hear my name Bandied about with blame, Heaped with reproach, made mud Refuse from far-off feud! Spoken contemptuously) What do you think, what say? Does instant wrath uprise, Do you feel sudden shame Stab your young hearts, surprise Your senses, and hate to hear That one by blood so near To you, in distant day Taken and trapped, broke from captivity, Trusted himself, won free? Lest things be thus, I leave These lines to circumvent Falsehood, as testament To ope young eyes, to express Truth in true singleness Of spirit, not to grieve Or shock your souls, but seek Just judgment at your hand, Essay, in all restraint, to represent Things as they are, to stand As before Bar, without fear, Steadfast and conscience-clear, Ask strength from you, not meek Obedience to your grandsire, crave you halt, Nor hold me all in fault. Nor for one instant think I pose as faultless. I Am full of faults, espy My myriad failings, sigh In all sincerity For these, unceasing drink Draughts of remorse, regret, As each man must who feels How far he fails to reach his inner, high Ideals, finds defeat In these his life-long lot, E'er present, ne'er forgot. ... Know, then, that he who appeals To youhis kinsmenfor fair hearing, teems With unaccomplished dreams. But know, from boyhood's hour, On into manhood, she Who bare me, ruthlessly Filched from me light of day, Turned her loved face away, Slave to her harsh and dour Husband, who, life-long, held Her hapless, will-less slave Of an abominable jealousy, Down to and from the grave. ... So that, discouraged, crushed, Mocked-at, despised, and pushed From out the Home, in cowardice I quell'd In piteous shame, of parents' help bereft, My napkin-hidden gift. Know that, what time I dwelt, Adrift, disorientate, Alien, in desperate Spiritual loneliness, Sought, in unceasing stress, My hidden self, (half Celt And half New England, child Of hostile bloods, thus blent And filled and fired and fused with passionate spate Of Artist temperament,) Fighting for outlet, baulked, Baffled, long time I walked Bemused, be-fogged, beguiled By my own mental many-sidedness, Seemingly purposeless. So walking, gave excuse, Pretext for that harsh sire To hurl indignant ire Impetuous forth, and fling The name of nidering Upon his first-born, bruise His son in spirit, cast Contempt on him before His sisters who, spectators of such mire, Came, in their turn, to pour Satire and shame on him Their brother, thus to dim What light yet lived, to blast His hopes, to silence song, to bid him be Base mediocrity. In foul discouragement They mocked his speech, they fleered His thought, they flouted, jeered His deeds. Year-long, they wrought Their best to bring to nought That brother. Diligent E'er to destroy, they dealt Him devilish blows; they found Delight in denigration, persevered, Loved to turn knife in wound, Not because they were bad Themselves, but that they had Weak man's example, wheeled Within one fifth-rate orbit, trapp'd and ta'en, Worshipped cheap charlatan. They crushed, yet could not kill, Some God stood strong to save Their sire's sad serf, so drave Him onward, saw him stand Each hour less frail, expand, Develop, climb the Hill Difficulty, and come, Shaken, to see the shore Of Life's large Sea, choose, and within its wave Plunge and press onward o'er Oceans of Effort, hide No more his talent, stride Fresh shores, fling from him Home Shackles, retrieving pre-appointed course, Fight on with fierce, grim force. Thus, serving secret flame In fond fidelity Of soul and spirit, he Still struggled forward, found Fresh doors swing wide, around Him gather men whose aim, As his, was high disdain Of Thought at second-hand, Of aught save fresh achievement ... came to be One of that small, blest band Of ceaseless seekers, grown Contemptuous of their own Shallow success, full fain For further findingsfortunate few who live Richly ... because they strive. Strive not for pelf nor gain, But, steadfast to the mark, Lit as by inward spark, Eyes on invisible goal, Steer, guide past bank, through shoal, Faithful and firm, a-main Hand on the helm, heart high. ... Who drive in glad unrest The slight, storm-driven, tempest-beaten barque Of their own being, blest In seeking always, ne'er Finding; foredoomed to fare Strange seas, hunt hopefully For that sweet haven, port of long desire Towards which true souls suspire. Know then, my Nephews, he Who writes these words at least Has ceaseless sought the best In Beauty, Sport, Art, Song, Sought these unflinching, long. ... In fierce fidelity, Fashioned his days to find The finest at all cost, Fought with strong passion to enlarge his mind, Blazed his own trail, made quest Of Truth his goal, athirst For further knowledge, burst Fresh bonds, fared tempest-tost, Storm-driven and spume-spattered, o'er Life's seas. ... In this found spirit's ease. Found, likewise, lasting friends, High, faithful few who turned Instinctive towards him, burned Gen'rousto help him gain Spiritual freedom, reign Lord of himself, seek ends Ever more arduous, ache Always for fresh horizons ... whose hearts yearned To his own heart, would make His joys, his sorrows, tears And exultations theirs: Eager in praise; of blame Ungrudgingwhen of blame they knew the need Joyful to give just meed. Found, likewise, loving hands At hour of need, eclipse Lend sustenance; found lips, Loving no less, light, stay On his own lips, turn grey Hours glad, at Home, in lands Afar; at first found fair His like; amazed, at length Came to discover links and comradeships With countless souls; drew strength From contact with all men And women; came to glean New knowledge everywhere; Came to learn Life's last lesson ... that we have, And hold, but what we gave. Know, Nephewsmore than all (Since one who hacks hard way Forward, who, night and day, Fights forth from Spiritual Night, Seeks lost, elusive Light, Pants for primordial Talent and task, unites, Combines all forces: bent On secret aim, on single-soul'd essay Increasingly intent, With each inch of won ground Must, all unconscious, wound Others, inflict, bring slights. ...) Know him at all times eager, face-to-face, To meet, right wrongs, ask grace. Know, if at this last stage, (His Life's Eleventh Hour!) It lay within his pow'r To front your Mothers, meet In quiet tête-a-tête And honest embassage Of reconcilement ... range Old wrongs as past, make nought Of present misconceptions, cleanse and scour Palimpsest long inwrought With wretched tales, with swart, Black lies which keep apart Kinsfolk, divide, estrange Those of one blood, born from the common womb, Once children in one Home. ... Knowcould such joy be-fall, If brother, once so near In soul and spirit, dear To my sad heart to-day No less than when, in play And academical Study, of old he stood My pupil, oft-times asked Help and encouragement (in rich relay Joyfully given) and basked In brother's love, became Inspired through Love's fond Flame. ... If heif all my blood, Those lied away long sincewould front and meet Me ... e'en now Life were sweet. But know nor he nor they, Your Mothers, (boys whose veins Harbour my blood, whom chains Of Prejudice hold fast, Serfs to the Pestilent Past, Part, now, of Present Day!), Dare meet and front me, or learn Truth from my lips, thus tear Thick veil from misconception, face fresh pains For Truth's fair sake, and bear Brief, transient shame to free Their souls for all time, see Union re-built, re-bound, No longer in enduring darkness stand, Sad dupes of that Dead Hand. Nor he, nor they, will face Me. Oft, of innocence Most conscious; of offence Guiltlessfull loth to go Graveward and ne'er renew Ancient affectionsgrace I craved from them, and sought One meeting; elsewise doomed To fight with shadows, making my defence, To dwell as one assumed Unworthy of free speech, Forbidden to beseech Justice from those who wrought The wrong, who, fearing facts, would burk all bout. ... Consumed by secret doubt! Boys of my bloodbut whom I ne'er have seen, shall see Never'twixt you and me, Your kinsman, manifold Gulfs, hideous, cruel, cold, Must lurk till Crack of Doom. ... Yet since not ours the crime, Since we be victims, caught In cunning net, once weaved of jealousy By that old man, who sought To sever us, lest veil Be lifted, faithful tale Be told in after time. ... Lo! I the outcast, whom true men approve, Send you God's truth, man's love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BETWEEN THE WARS by ROBERT HASS THE GOLDEN SHOVEL by TERRANCE HAYES ALONG WITH YOUTH by ERNEST HEMINGWAY THE BLACK RIVIERA by MARK JARMAN A BALLADE OF GREEN FIELDS; FOR F.W.M. by AUSTIN PHILIPS |
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