Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WANDERING JEW; A BALLAD, by JOHN GODFREY SAXE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE WANDERING JEW; A BALLAD, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Come list, my dear
Last Line: "nor spurn the saviour who bore the cross!"
Subject(s): Wandering Jew


COME list, my dear,
And you shall hear
About the wonderful Wandering Jew,
Who night and day,
The legends say,
Is taking a journey he never gets through.

What is his name,
Or whence he came,
Or whither the weary wanderer goes;
Or why he should stray
In this singular way,
Many have marveled, but nobody knows.

Though oft, indeed
(As you may read
In ancient histories quaint and true),
A man is seen
Of haggard mien
Whom people call the Wandering Jew.

Once in Brabant,
With garments scant,
And shoeless feet, a stranger appeared
His step was slow,
And white as snow
Were his waving locks and flowing beard.

His cheek was spare,
His head was bare;
And little he recked of heat or cold;
Misfortune's trace
Was in his face,
And he seemed at least a century old.

"Now, goodman, bide,"
The people cried,
"The night with us, -- it were surely best;
The wind is cold,
And thou art old,
And sorely needest shelter and rest!"

"Thanks! thanks!" said he,
"It may not be
That I should tarry the night with you;
I cannot stay;
I must away,
For I, alas! am the Wandering Jew!"

"We oft have read,"
The people said,
"Thou bearest ever a nameless woe;
Now prithee tell
How it befell
That thou art always wandering so?"

"The time would fail
To tell my tale,
And yet a little, ere I depart,
Would I relate
About my fate,
For some, perhaps, may lay it to heart.

"When but a youth
(And such, in sooth,
Are ever of giddy and wanton mood),
With tearless eye
I saw pass by
The Saviour bearing a hateful rood.

"And when he stooped.
And, groaning, drooped
And staggered and fell beneath the weight,
I cursed his name,
And cried, 'For shame!
Move on, blasphemer, and meet thy fate!'

"He raised his head,
And, smiling, said:
'Move on thyself! In sorrow and pain,
When I am gone
Shalt thou move on,
Nor rest thy foot till I come again!'

"Alas! the time
That saw my crime, --
'T was more than a thousand years ago!
And since that hour
Some inward power
Has kept me wandering to and fro.

"I fain would die
That I might lie
With those who sleep in the silent tomb;
But not for me
Is rest, -- till He
Shall come to end my dreadful doom.

"The pestilence
That hurries hence
A thousand souls in a single night
Brings me no death
Upon its breath,
But passes by in its wayward flight.

"The storm that wrecks
A hundred decks,
And drowns the shuddering, shrieking crew,
Still leaves afloat
The fragile boat
That bears the life of the Wandering Jew.

"But I must away;
I cannot stay;
Nor further suffer a moment's loss;
Heed well the word
That ye have heard, --
Nor spurn the Saviour who bore the Cross!"





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