Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SHELLEY; FOR THE CENTENARY OF HIS DEATH, JULY, 1922, by CHARLES WHARTON STORK


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SHELLEY; FOR THE CENTENARY OF HIS DEATH, JULY, 1922, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: A rebel for faith
Last Line: Till it swoons with joy in the flood of day.
Subject(s): Poetry & Poets; Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)


A rebel for Faith,
A traitor for Love,
I braved the wrath
That men's lips approve,
I soared and snatched from a dead god's hand
A torch that flamed like the dawn-light's brand.
Then I cried to the world that Love was king
And law without love an infamous thing.

But as I spoke
With the torch held high,
The dull mob woke
To defend their lie:
"Sieze him and bind him, the impious youth
Who, stealing Love to seek for Truth,
Would throw the gleam of eternity
On the hidden heart of the things that be."

Whined a scholar, shrinking,
"How has he caught
The pretence of thinking
As Plato thought?
Where is the honor of Learning's shrine
If the heart of a child is wiser than mine?
Knowledge is good when stark and dead,
But brought to life 'tis a thing of dread."

And a pale priest muttered,
"Beware this blaze!
Old prophets have uttered
What he now says.
Fearful the vision of one so young,
Blaspheming our God with a god's own tongue
'The church is a tomb,' all men will cry.
Scourge him! Ah, would we might crucify!"

And statesmen trembled
And general paled,
For the words resembled
Some that had failed,
But, failing, had broken kings and lords
And the mingled strength of a million swords;
Words whose fire might flame again
If the Spirit of Truth still lived in men.

So, mad with the gleam
Of the torch I carried,
On the wings of my dream
Forth, forth I hurried.
Alas! the radiance at random thrown
Dazed others' eyes and blinded my own.
The flame by the gusts of the world flung back
Stifled my breath with its pitch fumes black.

Choking, I turned
Mid the throng that pressed.
Unwitting, I burned
Whom I loved the best.
Men struck at me, wounded me, sought to bind,
But I burst away and fled mankind,
Till I sank down faint in a twilight land,
While the torch burned low in my trembling hand.

But from the thunder
Of headlong streams
I drank the wonder
Of mightier dreams.
Spirits of water and earth and air
Wept with me, spoke with me, sang to me there.
I learned in that realm of peace and awe
That Love was not license but holier law.

In mountain recesses
Eerie and dark
Of the wildernesses
I nursed the spark,
Till steady it burned as dawn's dim star
That pierces the veil of the dusk afar,
For the Powers of solitude purged its fire
From the fierce red stain of its first desire.

Its ardor fed me
With milder lore,
Its beams then led me
To men once more.
I was wafted away in phantasy
To the birth-lands of art and of history,
And spite of the frown the cold world showed
With purer beauty my love-torch glowed.

I have trembled with fears
Too deep for thought,
I have wept wild tears
For the wrongs I wrought,
When chained for the talons of fiends to tear
I have screamed in a spasm of black despair.
But this power abode with me soon and late:
Though stripped, though tortured, I could not hate.
When I gave, I grieved
That my gifts were scorned.
Of friends bereaved,
My sad heart mourned.
yet my brothers that laughed at my unguessed woe
I pitied, rebuked: but hated? No!
I cried, "You may bicker and snarl and slay,
But Love will triumph on Love's good day."

I sang that learning
And strength were vain,
And void the yearning
Of blood and brain,
If the eyes of the spirit could not behold
The guiding torch, like the dawn-star's gold,
The earthly sign of celestial morn
That glowed with the fire of the day unborn.

I held high the flame,
Though few could see;
Till the dark waves came
And closed over me,
But I felt with the stab of the final gasp
The torch caught up from my failing grasp,
And my soul streamed into the living fire
That was lifted higher and ever higher, --

Lifted sublime
By a cherub strong
From the sea of Time
To the sky of Song,
Where it glows unfading, ever more bright
As it throbs out the wine of its golden light,
And shall pour down hope into hearts of clay
Till it swoons with joy in the flood of day.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net