Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, JOHN JONES: 3. ON THE SANDS, by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

JOHN JONES: 3. ON THE SANDS, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: There was nothing at all in the case (con
Last Line: Till one night -- 'is god off now? Or on?
Subject(s): Love; Sea; Seashore; Ocean; Beach; Coast; Shore


I.

THERE was nothing at all in the case (conceive)
But love; being love, it was not (understand)
Such a thing as the years let fall (believe)
Like the rope's coil dropt from a fisherman's hand
When the boat's hauled up -- "by your leave!"

II.

So -- well! How that crab writhes -- leg after leg
Drawn, as a worm draws ring upon ring
Gradually, not gladly! Nay, but, Meg,
Is it more than the ransom (say) of a king
(Take my meaning at least) that I beg?

III.

Not so! You were ready to learn, I think,
What the world said! 'He loves you too well (suppose)
For such leanings! These poets, their love's mere ink --
Like a flower, their flame flashes -- a rosebud, blows --
Then it all drops down at a wink!

IV.

'Ah, the instance! A curl of a blossomless vine
The vinedresser passing it sickens to see
And mutters "Much hope (under God) of His wine
From the branch and the bark of a barren tree
Spring reared not, and winter lets pine --

V.

'"His wine that should glorify (saith He) the cup
That a man beholding (not tasting) might say
'Pour out life at a draught, drain it dry, drink it up,
Give this one thing, and huddle the rest away --
Save the bitch, and who cares for the pup?'

VI.

'"Let it rot then!" which saying, he leaves it -- we'll guess,
Feels (if the sap move at all) thus much --
Yearns, and would blossom, would quicken no less,
Bud at an eye's glance, flower at a touch --
"Die, perhaps, would you not, for her? -- "Yes

VII.

'Note the hitch there! That's piteous -- so much being done,
(He'll think some day, your lover) so little to do!
Such infinite days to wear out, once begun!
Since the hand its glove holds, and the foot-sole its shoe --
Overhead too there's always the sun!'

VIII.

Oh, no doubt they had said so, your friends -- been profuse
Of good counsel, wise hints -- 'where the trap lurks, walk warily --
Squeeze the fruit to the core ere you count on the juice!
For the graft may fail, shift, wax, change colour, wane, very, lie -- '
You were cautious, God knows -- to what use?

IX.

This crab's wiser, it strikes me -- no twist but implies life --
Not a curl but's so fit you could find none fitter --
For the brute from its brutehood looks up thus and eyes life --
Stoop your soul down and listen, you'll hear it twitter,
Laughing lightly, -- my crab's life's the wise life!

X.

Ah, now, look you -- tail foremost, the beast sets seaward --
The sea draws it, sand sucks it -- he's wise, my crab!
From the napkin out jumps his one talent -- good steward,
Just judge! So a man shirks the smile or the stab,
And sets his sail duly to leeward!

XI.

Trust me? Hardly! I bid you not lean (remark)
On my spirit, your spirit -- my flesh, your flesh --
Hold my hand, and tread safe through the horrible dark --
Quench my soul as with sprinklings of snow, then refresh
With some blast of new bellows the spark!

XII.

By no means! This were easy (men tell me) to say --
'Give her all, throw your chance up, fall back on her heart!'
(Say my friends) 'she must change! after night follows day -- '
No such fool! I am safe set in hell, for my part --
So let heaven do the worst now he may!

XIII.

What they bid me? Well, this, nothing more -- 'Tell her this --
"You are mine, I yours, though the whole world fail --
Though things are not, I know there is one thing which is --
Though the oars break, there's hope for us yet -- hoist the sail!
Oh, your heart! what's the heart? but your kiss!"

XIV.

'Then she breaks, she drops down, she lies flat at your feet --
Take her then!' Well, I knew it -- what fools are men!
Take the bee by her horns, will your honey prove sweet?
Sweet is grass -- will you pasture your cows in a fen?
Oh, if contraries could but once meet!

XV.

Love you call it? Some twitch in the moon's face (observe)
Wet blink of her eyelid, tear dropt about dewfall,
Cheek flushed or obscured -- does it make the sky swerve?
Fetch the test, work the question to rags, bring to proof all --
Find what souls want and bodies deserve!

XVI.

Ah, we know you! Your soul works to infinite ends,
Frets, uses life up for death's sake, takes pains,
Flings down love's self -- 'but you, bear me witness, my friends!
Have I lost spring? count up (see) the winter's fresh gains!
Is the shrub spoilt? the pine's hair impends!'

XVII.

What, you'd say -- 'Mark how God works! Years crowd, time wears thin,
Earth keeps good yet, the sun goes on, stars hold their own,
And you'll change, climb past sight of the world, shift your skin,
Never heeding how life moans -- more flesh now, less bone!"
For that cheek's worn waste outline (death's
grin)

XVIII.

Pleads with time still -- "what good if I lose this? but see -- "'
(There's the crab gone!) '"I said, 'Though earth sinks,'"' (you perceive?
Ah, true, back there!) your soul now -- '"'yet some vein might be
(Could one find it alive in the heart's core's pulse, cleave
Through the life-springs where 'you' melts in 'me') --

XIX.

'"'Some true vein of the absolute soul, which survives
All that flesh runs to waste through' -- and lo, this fails!
Here's death close on us! One life? a million of lives!
Why choose one sail to watch of these infinite sails?
Time's a tennis-play! thank you, no, fives!

XX.

'"Stop life's ball then!" Such folly! melt earth down for that,
Till the pure ore eludes you and leaves you raw scoriae?
Pish, the vein's wrong!' But you, friends -- come, what were you at
When God spat you out suddenly? what was the story He
Cut short thus, the growth He laid flat?

XXI.

Wait! the crab's twice alive, mark! Oh, worthy, your soul,
Of strange ends, great results, novel labours! Take note,
I reject this for one! (ay, now, straight to the hole!
Safe in sand there -- your skirts smooth out all as they float!)
I, shirk drinking through flaws in the bowl?

XXII.

Or suppose now that rock's cleft -- grim, scored to the quick,
As a man's face kept fighting all life through gets scored,
Mossed and marked with grey purulent leprosies, sick,
Flat and foul as man's life here (be swift with your sword --
Cut the soul out, stuck fast where thorns prick!)

XXIII.

-- Say it let the rock's heart out, its meaning, the thing
All was made for, devised, ruled out gradually, planned --
Ah, that sea-shell, perhaps -- since it lies, such a ring
Of pure colour, a cup full of sunbeams, to stand
(Say, in Lent) at the priest's hand -- (no king!)

XXIV.

Blame the cleft then? Praise rather! So -- just a chance gone!
Had you said -- 'Save the seed and secure souls in flower' --
Ah, how time laughs, years palpitate, pro grapples con,
Till one day you shrug shoulders -- 'Well, gone, the good hour!
Till one night -- 'Is God off now? or on?





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


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