"Scatter the horror"
Oct. 22nd, 2005 01:38 pmThe last post from George MacDonald's "The Haunted House"...
IX. Is there no help--none anywhere,
Under the earth, or above the air?
--Come, come, sad woman, whose tender throat
Has a red-lipped mouth that can sing no note!
Child, whose midwife, the third grim Fate,
Shears in hand, thy coming did wait!
Father, with blood-bedabbled hair!
Mother, all withered with love's despair!
Come, broken heart, whatever thou be,
Hasten to help this misery!
Thou wast only murdered, or left forlorn;
He is a horror, a hate, a scorn!
Come, if out of the holiest blue
That the sapphire throne shines through;
For pity come, though thy fair feet stand
Next to the elder-band;
Fling thy harp on the hyaline,
Hurry thee down the spheres divine;
Come, and drive those ravens away;
Cover his eyes from the pitiless moon;
Shadow his brain from her stinging spray;
Droop around him, a tent of love,
An odour of grace, a fanning dove;
Walk through the house with the healing tune
Of gentle footsteps; banish the shape
Remorse calls up, thyself to ape;
Comfort him, dear, with pardon sweet;
Cool his heart from its burning heat
With the water of life that lakes the feet
Of the throne of God, and the holy street.
X. O God, he is but a living blot,
Yet he lives by thee--for if thou wast not,
They would vanish together, self-forgot,
He and his crime:--one breathing blown
Stronger than anguish, deeper than sin?
XI. Why do I tremble, a creature at bay!
'Tis but a dream--I drive it away.
Back comes my breath, and my heart again
Pumps the red blood to my fainting brain
Released from the nightmare's nine-fold train;
God is in heaven--yes, everywhere;
And Love, the all-shining, will kill Despair.
To the wall's blank eyeless space
I turn the picture's face.
XII. But why is the moon so bare, up there?
And why is she so white?
And why does the moon so stare, up there--
Strangely stare, out of the night?
Why stand up the poplars
That still way?
And why do those two of them
Start astray?
And out of the black why hangs the gray?
W hy does it hang down so, I say,
Over what house, like a fringed pall
Where the dead goes by in a funeral?
--Soul of mine,
Thou the reason canst divine:--
Into thee the moon doth stare
With pallid, terror-smitten air:
Thou, and the Horror lonely-stark,
Outcast of eternal dark,
Are in nature same and one,
And thy story is not done!
So let the picture face thee from the wall,
And let its white moon stare.
The End.
from "The Haunted House" by George MacDonald
IX. Is there no help--none anywhere,
Under the earth, or above the air?
--Come, come, sad woman, whose tender throat
Has a red-lipped mouth that can sing no note!
Child, whose midwife, the third grim Fate,
Shears in hand, thy coming did wait!
Father, with blood-bedabbled hair!
Mother, all withered with love's despair!
Come, broken heart, whatever thou be,
Hasten to help this misery!
Thou wast only murdered, or left forlorn;
He is a horror, a hate, a scorn!
Come, if out of the holiest blue
That the sapphire throne shines through;
For pity come, though thy fair feet stand
Next to the elder-band;
Fling thy harp on the hyaline,
Hurry thee down the spheres divine;
Come, and drive those ravens away;
Cover his eyes from the pitiless moon;
Shadow his brain from her stinging spray;
Droop around him, a tent of love,
An odour of grace, a fanning dove;
Walk through the house with the healing tune
Of gentle footsteps; banish the shape
Remorse calls up, thyself to ape;
Comfort him, dear, with pardon sweet;
Cool his heart from its burning heat
With the water of life that lakes the feet
Of the throne of God, and the holy street.
X. O God, he is but a living blot,
Yet he lives by thee--for if thou wast not,
They would vanish together, self-forgot,
He and his crime:--one breathing blown
Stronger than anguish, deeper than sin?
XI. Why do I tremble, a creature at bay!
'Tis but a dream--I drive it away.
Back comes my breath, and my heart again
Pumps the red blood to my fainting brain
Released from the nightmare's nine-fold train;
God is in heaven--yes, everywhere;
And Love, the all-shining, will kill Despair.
To the wall's blank eyeless space
I turn the picture's face.
XII. But why is the moon so bare, up there?
And why is she so white?
And why does the moon so stare, up there--
Strangely stare, out of the night?
Why stand up the poplars
That still way?
And why do those two of them
Start astray?
And out of the black why hangs the gray?
W hy does it hang down so, I say,
Over what house, like a fringed pall
Where the dead goes by in a funeral?
--Soul of mine,
Thou the reason canst divine:--
Into thee the moon doth stare
With pallid, terror-smitten air:
Thou, and the Horror lonely-stark,
Outcast of eternal dark,
Are in nature same and one,
And thy story is not done!
So let the picture face thee from the wall,
And let its white moon stare.
The End.
from "The Haunted House" by George MacDonald
no subject
Date: 2005-10-22 10:15 pm (UTC)With pallid, terror-smitten air
That sounds like me at the top of the Duomo dome in Florence. It feels v odd to be discovering a fear of heights at 35. Perhaps the notion of mortality is only just now getting into this thick head of mind.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-23 09:11 pm (UTC)Wish I'd gotten to see you more this weekend. o babysitter, yet again, and Brendan is not what you'd classify as a calm child who can sit through a presentation without trying to help. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-23 09:33 pm (UTC)It was great seeing you briefly this weekend. I wish Melissa and I could have both seen the presentation but, as she said above, our boy is what the childcare books call "spirited". =)
Well, at least he's fun to hang out with.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-24 12:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-24 12:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-24 12:57 pm (UTC)I'm so glad to hear you liked the poem! Halloween rules!
no subject
Date: 2005-10-25 07:04 am (UTC)and I find it deliciously silly that we can both be terrified of heights and fly around in as many hollow metal tubes as we do. my partner was telling me about a recent episode of mythbusters where they were testing out whether the brace position on planes would really help in a crash...does he not know the meaning of the phrase "feeding one's fears"?!