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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Manuscript of Saint Alexius</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There came a child into the solemn hall <br>where great Pope Innocent sat throned and heard <br>angry disputings on Free-Will in man, <br>Grace, Purity, and the Pelagian creed-- <br>an ignorantly bold poor child, who stood <br>shewing his rags before the Pope's own eyes, <br>and bade him come to shrive a beggar man <br>he found alone and dying in a shed, <br>who sent him for the Pope, "not any else <br>but the Pope's self." And Innocent arose <br>and hushed the mockers "Surely I will go: <br>servant of servants, I." So he went forth <br>to where the man lay sleeping into death, <br>and blessed him. Then, with a last spurt of life, <br>the dying man rose sitting, "Take," he said, <br>and placed a written scroll in the Pope's hand, <br>and so fell back and died. Thus said the scroll: </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Alexius, meanest servant of the Lord, <br>son of Euphemianus, senator, <br>and of Aglaia, writes his history, <br>God willing it, which, if God so shall will, <br>shall be revealed when he is fallen asleep. <br>Spirit of Truth, Christ, and all saints of Heaven, <br>and Mary, perfect dove of guilelessness, <br>make his mind clear, that he write utter truth. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">That which I was all know: that which I am <br>God knows, not I, if I stand near to Him <br>because I have not yielded, or, by curse <br>of recreant longings, am to Him a wretch <br>it needs Such grace to pardon: but I know <br>that one day soon I, dead, shall see His face <br>with that great pity on it which is ours <br>who love Him and have striven and then rest, <br>that I shall look on Him and be content. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">For what I am, in my last days, to men, <br>'tis nothing; scarce a name, and even that <br>known to be not my own; a wayside wretch <br>battening upon a rich lord's charity <br>and praying, (some say like the hypocrites), <br>a wayside wretch who, harboured for a night, <br>is harboured still, and, idle on the alms, <br>prays day and night and night and day, and fears <br>lest, even praying, he should suddenly <br>undo his prayer and perish and be great <br>and rich and happy. Jesu, keep me Thine. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Father and mother, when ye hear of me, <br>(for I shall choose so sure a messenger <br>whom God will shew me), when ye hear these words, <br>and Claudia, whom I dead will dare count mine, <br>bidding her pray she be Christ's more than mine, <br>believe I loved you; know it; but, beloved, <br>you never will know how much till at length <br>God bids you know all things in the new life. <br>Alas, you have had little joy of me: <br>beloved, could I have given drops of blood <br>in place of your shed tears, the cruellest wounds <br>had been my perfect joys: but both my love <br>and your distress needs were my cross to bear. <br>Forgive me that you sorrowed. And be glad <br>because you sorrowed and your sorrow was <br>holy to God, a sacrifice to Him. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Know now, all men who read or hear my words, <br>that I, Alexius, lived in much delights <br>of a dear home where they who looked on me <br>looked with a smile, and where I did but smile <br>to earn sweet praises as for some good deed: <br>I was the sunlight to my mother's eyes, <br>that waked their deepest blueness and warm glow, <br>I was my father's joy, ambition, boast, <br>his hope and his fulfilment. It may be <br>I grew too strong a link betwixt their hearts <br>and this poor world whose best gifts seemed to them <br>destined for me, grew, when they looked on Heaven, <br>a blur upon their sight, too largely near, <br>as any trivial tiny shape held close <br>will make eclipse against the eye it fills: <br>and so, maybe. for their sake, not for mine, <br>God took me from them, me, their only son, <br>for whom they prayed, and trebled pious deeds, <br>and took thought in this life. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I grew by them, <br>learning all meet for my estate on earth, <br>but learning more, what they taught more, of God, <br>and loving most that learning. And at times, <br>even from childhood, would my heart grow still <br>and seem to feel Him, hear Him, and I knew, <br>but not with ears, a voice that spoke no words <br>yet called me. And, as ignorant children choose <br>"I will be emperor when I am big," <br>my foolish wont was "I will be a saint:" <br>later, when riper sense brought humbleness, <br>I said "When I am grown a man, my lot <br>Shall be with those who vow their lives to Christ." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But, when my father thought my words took shape <br>of other than boy's prattle, he grew grave, <br>and answered me "Alexius, thou art young, <br>and canst not judge of duties; but know this <br>thine is to serve God, living in the world." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And still the days went on, and still I felt <br>the silent voice that called me: then I said <br>"My father, now I am no more a child, <br>and I can know my heart; give me to God:" <br>but he replied "God gives no son save thee <br>to keep our fathers' name alive, and thus <br>He shews thy place and duty:" and, with tears, <br>my mother said "God gives no child save thee; <br>make me not childless." And their words seemed God's <br>more than my heart's, theirs who had rule on me. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But still my longing grew, and still the voice: <br>and they both answered "Had God need of thee <br>to leave thy natural place none else can fill, <br>there would be signs which none could doubt, nor we <br>nor thou thyself." And I received that word; <br>knowing I doubted since they bade me doubt. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And still the days went on, and still the voice <br>and then my father said "The bride is chosen, <br>if thou wilt have her; if not, choose thyself." <br>And more and more I prayed "Give me to God:" <br>and more and more they urged "Whom gives He us <br>save thee to keep our name alive? whom else <br>to stay us from a desolate old age, <br>and give us children prattling at our knees?" <br>and more and more they answered "Shew to us <br>how He has called thee from thy certain path <br>where He has set thy feet?" Wherefore I said <br>"I will obey, and will so serve my God <br>as you have bidden me serve Him, honouring you:" <br>and they two blessed me, and we were agreed. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And afterwards Euphemianus laughed <br>"He asks not of the bride; but, boy, art pleased? <br>'tis thy fair playmate Claudia, fair and good." <br>I, who asked not because I nothing cared, <br>was glad in afterthinking: for the girl <br>lad been my playmate, and of later time <br>knew her beauty with familiar eyes <br>and no more feared it than I feared the grace <br>of useless goddesses perfect in stone, <br>lingering dishonoured in unholy nooks <br>where comes no worship more; so that I mused <br>"The damsel brings no perilous wedding gift <br>of amorous unknown fetters for my soul; <br>my soul shall still be spared me, consecrate, <br>virgin to God until the better days <br>when I may live the life alone with Him:" <br>so was I comforted. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But, in the hour <br>when all the rite was done and the new bride <br>come to her home, I sitting half apart, <br>my mother took her fondly by the hand <br>and drew her, lagging timidly, to me, <br>and spoke "Look up my daughter, look on him: <br>Alexius, shall I tell what I have guessed, <br>how this girl loves you?" Then she raised her head <br>a moment long, and looked: and I grew white, <br>and sank back sickly. For I suddenly <br>knew that I might know that which men call love. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And through the tedious feast my mind was torn <br>with reasonings and repentance. For I said <br>"But I may love her," and kept marshalling forth <br>such scriptures as should seem to grant it me: <br>then would an anguish hurl my fabric down, <br>while I discerned that he who has put hand <br>upon the plough must never turn again <br>to take the joyaunce granted easy lives. <br>And bye and bye I stole away and went, <br>half conscious, through the darkling garden groves, <br>amid the evening silence, till I came <br>to a small lonely chapel, little used, <br>left open by I know not what new chance, <br>where there was patterned out in polished stones <br>Peter denying Christ. I hastened in, <br>and threw me on the floor, and would have prayed; <br>but, in a rush of tears, I fell asleep. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And there I dreamed: meseemed the easy years <br>had slipped along, and I sat, pleased and proud, <br>among my ruddy children, and I held <br>my wife's smooth hand, who but so much had changed <br>as to grow fairer in her womanhood; <br>and, facing us, a carved and marble Christ <br>hung on a Cross and gazed with Its dumb eyes, <br>I looking on It: and I turned my head <br>to smile to Claudia, and then looked again; <br>behold Its right arm moved, and then was still, <br>And a low voice came forth "Alexius, come." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And I replied "Oh Lord I am content; <br>but lo my father." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Then my father stood, <br>meseemed, beside me, leading in his hand <br>a sturdy urchin, copy of himself, <br>and answered "Son, my ears do hear thee called; <br>and now I have this son of thine: go forth." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And once again the voice, "Alexius, come." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And I replied "My Lord, I am content; <br>but lo my mother." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Then my mother stood, <br>meseemed, beside me, and her arm was wound <br>round my wife's neck, and clinging to her skirt <br>a baby boy and girl that teased and played <br>and clamoured for her kisses: so she stood, <br>and answered "Son, my ears do hear thee called; <br>and now this daughter hast thou given me, <br>and now I have these babes of thine: go forth." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And louder then the voice, "Alexius, come." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And I replied "Dear Lord, I am content; <br>I come." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Then Claudia's hand grew tight in mine, <br>and I looked on her face and saw it so <br>as when my mother bade her look on me, <br>and I replied "Oh Lord I were content, <br>but lo my wife." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And still again the voice; <br>and still again her hand that drew mine back; <br>and I replied "My wife: I cannot come." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And still again the voice, "Alexius, come," <br>loud and in wrath. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And I replied "My wife: <br>I will not come." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And with that word I woke. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I was in darkness, and the door was locked, <br>(doubtless while I, asleep or tranced, lay dumb <br>some one had sought me there and had not found, <br>and so had gone, unconscious, prisoning me); <br>I groped my way toward the altar steps, <br>and thanked my God, and prayed. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">When morning broke <br>I heard without two voices, as it seemed <br>of holy pilgrims talking, and one said </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">"The youth Alexius surely has fled forth <br>to serve God safelier;" the other said <br>"Then doth he well; for now that better part <br>shall none take from him, he shall be all God's <br>and only God's, not father's, mother's, son's, <br>nor any fond fair woman's." Then they went. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But I was still there prisoned. Day moved on, <br>and brightened, and then waned, and darkness came, <br>broken by one white moonbeam, for an hour, <br>that seemed a promise, and, in that good hope, <br>I prayed, then slept. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But when morn grew again, <br>and no deliverance came, but frequent steps, <br>and voices passing, I grew scared with doubts <br>if, keeping silence, as from enemies, <br>and by my silence dying, I should be <br>self-murdered or God's martyr; and I thought <br>how, maybe, at the last my fainting voice <br>should vainly cry too late, and I should pass <br>with none to give God's comfort. But I thought <br>"If God wills even that, then let it be." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But when the noon sun glowed I heard a hand <br>touch at the door, and crouched me in a nook, <br>and scarce had crouched when Claudia passed by me <br>with slow steps to the altar: she prayed long; <br>praying, poor child, to have me given back, <br>claiming me back of Heaven, as if her right <br>could equal That right, crying out for me <br>by loving names, and weeping, that my heart <br>went out of me towards her, wondering, <br>and yearned for her. But God was pitiful, <br>so that I swerved not. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">When I heard her vow <br>to pray there daily, I perceived through her <br>deliverance should come shortly: and I planned <br>to stand within the shadow the noon light <br>threw from a massive column by the door, <br>and, when she had passed in and hid her face, <br>get me forth softly. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But the flesh was weak, <br>and when I waked again the noon beams fell <br>full on the face of Peter where he wept <br>repenting; Claudia was already there. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I thought a moment should I not come forth, <br>and charge her let none know, and go my way; <br>but, did she give one startled sudden cry, <br>womanlike, I had been betrayed: and then <br>I feared her if she wept. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">May God forgive <br>my weak heart then, my weak heart all my days, <br>which never has been so strong as not feel <br>always the fall at hand, but then so weak <br>that some few urgent tears and soft sad words <br>might, haply might, have bought me from my God. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">So she went forth, unconscious: and I prayed <br>death should not come at night, with none at hand <br>to minister beside me, and in faith <br>I laid me down to wait what God should send. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And in a little while she came again, <br>and sought and found a gold and emerald pin, <br>(one of the gifts they made me give to her), <br>dropped from her loosened hair, then, kissing it, <br>passed out, and, for a moment long, forgot <br>to make the door fast, turned back to the task, <br>then, murmuring "Why? For it is better thus, <br>when whoso wills can enter in and pray," <br>left it and went. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Then free, I made my vow <br>to live unknown, unhonoured, with no ties, <br>no certain home, no aims, no rights, no name, <br>an unregarded wanderer, whose steps, <br>by whichsoever road they passed, but passed <br>to travel nearer Heaven. And, for a sign, <br>I made a secret place and hid my ring <br>under the altar. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">You will find it there: <br>at the right hand a cross upon an A <br>cut on the floor, so small you must look well, <br>and near it, at the altar-base, a crack <br>I found there in the chiselling, (just behind <br>a cherub's wing), is closed with dust and earth; <br>there lies the ring. Give it me mine again, <br>it and my name I take back for my grave, <br>as I take back my kinsfolk and my friends <br>to pray and mourn for me and give God thanks. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">That done, I got me forth, and saw none nigh, <br>(the search near home being over, as it seemed), <br>and with my best poor speed I found a copse <br>whose green thick tangles hid me: there I lay <br>till the cool nightfall came and patient stars <br>watched Earth asleep, as if they prayed for her; <br>and other eyes saw not save theirs, and those <br>that look from Heaven, when I came sickly forth <br>and dragged my limp and failing limbs along. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I made my clothes in tatters; thus I went <br>and begged food at a convent for my life <br>that else were flickered out: so they gave food, <br>and they gave shelter: and at dawn I went, <br>while none who could have known had looked on me, <br>and, hastening on my journey, followed forth <br>my fellow-Roman Tiber's seaward strides, <br>and reached the port. There, as I since have learned, <br>Euphemianus had left men in wait <br>while he searched otherwhere: but God ruled all. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A little ship was just launched out to sea, <br>her heel still caught upon the grating beach, <br>the men were good and took the pilgrim in <br>who at the farewell moment called to them, <br>and, in what while I know not, but it seemed <br>as short as in a dream are days and years, <br>I saw my shores grown narrow purple clouds, <br>and then (for I write truth though shaming me) <br>I broke into such weeping that the men <br>felt whiteness in their cheeks, and, marvelling, <br>sent whispers to and fro, in doubt of me <br>lest witchcraft held me or my some deep crime <br>had set a curse demoniac; and they schemed <br>if they should put back to be rid of me, <br>but one said "Tush! the youth weeps for his home; <br>at his age, maybe, some of us could weep; <br>let him alone." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A rough and grizzled man, <br>who after, at the haven, came and clapped <br>a great hand on my shoulder, "Look, my boy, <br>you keep your secrets safer: for I heard <br>of a hot hunt after a great man's son, <br>and when I saw you weep ...... Well go your way, <br>my tongue shall earn no wages by its blab. <br>Maybe at your age I should have fled too, <br>if yoked against my will; but I am old <br>and preach go home again. Some say she's fair; <br>and a fair woman, love her or not love, <br>is a fair woman: but, or fair or foul, <br>be wise, young sir, be wise; never go starve <br>because your cake's not candied to your taste." <br>I said "Kind friend, I have no home to seek; <br>God gives me not a home till bye and bye," <br>and left him. So my pilgrimage began. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But, oh vain heart of man! can this be true <br>which I remember, that I, plodding on, <br>whither I did not ask me, as God willed, <br>undoubting and ungrieving, yea, puffed up <br>to feel my heart was numb of all regret, <br>carrying upon my lips (as men will burr <br>a day long some persistent measured strain) <br>for refrain-catch "Now all and only God's," <br>drew from my bosom, with my crucifix, <br>a withered crumpled weed, a clinging thing <br>that, green and dainty, new brushed from its root, <br>with one white flower-speck on it, trailed its sprays <br>athwart the purple hem of Claudia's veil <br>the last time in the chapel while she prayed; <br>it lay upon the floor when she was gone. <br>A worthless grass, what good was it to me? <br>and, lo, made fellow with my crucifix! <br>yet surely I had done it scarce aware, <br>for now I gazed on it so stupidly <br>as though a secret hand had placed it there <br>to set a riddle so, nor could recall <br>what thought I took it with. But see what snares <br>I fled from, flying Claudia; suddenly <br>the thing was at my lips, in such a kiss <br>as, maybe, lovers kiss on women's mouths, <br>in such a kiss howbeit as brought forth shame <br>almost in its own birth. I hurled the weed, <br>the viperous thing, into the battling surf <br>that dragged and sucked the booming shingles down, <br>lashing the beach before a coming storm; <br>I hurled it forth and went. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It seems to me, <br>looking back now, as if that made an end. <br>I think I had no temptings afterwards. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Natheless my grief was bitter many times <br>remembering home: but that I felt not sin, <br>because 'twas as a soul among the dead <br>might sorrow, never wishing to come back. <br>And Claudia was not of my memories: <br>scarcely at all: a stray bad dream at night <br>would bring her to me, make me dream I wept <br>because I might not love her, but not dream <br>that I did love; in daytime she came not. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Ten years I wandered: who cares know the whither? <br>a pilgrim and alone I trod my way, <br>no man regarding me. Alone with God: <br>whether in deserts or the throng of towns; <br>whether upon the mountain-tops, whence earth <br>shows sometimes so too exquisite for man <br>as though the devil had leave to fashion it <br>and cozen us with its beauty; or below, <br>where in the valleys one beholds the hills <br>grow nearer Heaven at sunset; or my ears <br>full of the hymn of waters, where the sea <br>breaks at one's feet among the rough brown rocks; <br>whether in pain, in weariness, in fear, <br>or, thankful, taking comfortable rest; <br>always alone with God. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">So for ten years: <br>and in the later of them I had peace: <br>so for ten years, and then, by what degrees <br>I know not, (for the stupor crept like sleep, <br>slowly yet sudden on one at the last), <br>my peace became a blankness. And one day <br>I sought to rouse me, questioning "Where is God?" <br>and could not weep because I found him not, <br>yea, could not rouse me. And my prayers were words, <br>like trite goodmorrows when two gossips meet <br>and never look for answers; and my praise <br>was rounded like the song the poet makes <br>to one who never lived for him to love. <br>I was my Pharisee to cheat myself <br>and make myself believe me that God's friend <br>I had forgotten what it felt to be. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">So, when I saw this plainly, I took thought, <br>pondering how it should be that when I pined <br>for thirst of human love I loved God more <br>and felt His love more near me than when now <br>my heart was swept and garnished, void for Him: <br>at last I saw my need of quickening pain <br>to stir the sluggish soul awake in me, <br>and knew I offered nothing to my Lord, <br>offering Him that it cost me nought to give; <br>what good to turn to Him, "Lord I leave all," <br>if all be noway precious? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I arose <br>and set my face to Rome, making all haste. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">On the forty-seventh day I saw the sun <br>droop to the hills behind my father's house, <br>and lo, while I toiled up the rude ascent, <br>our last slope of the Aventine, there came, <br>riding apart and grave, from the far side, <br>Euphemianus. When he reached the gate <br>he entered not, but seemed to point me out <br>to the servitors that followed with his hawks, <br>and watched me coming upwards painfully. <br>And when he saw me footsore and so spent <br>he had compassion: ere my prayer was done, <br>"Food, my good lord, and rest, for charity," <br>he bade them take me in. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Six years ago: <br>and now I die here. No one bade depart; <br>they gave me daily scraps, and let me live <br>in the shed for harbouring squalid wanderers <br>that sleep a night, and take their alms, and go. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">None knew me; who should know me? Gone away, <br>past ten years since, a comely petted boy, <br>and now a half decrepit sickly wretch, <br>a lean and shrivelled carcase, the ten years <br>writ twenty on my leathery wrinkled face, <br>how was I their Alexius? Nay, they looked <br>and saw the stranger in the beggar's shed <br>they called, for want of name, Old Lazarus. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In the beggar's shed with God: with God again! <br>Oh exquisite pain that brought so exquisite joy! <br>even by instant peril to be lost <br>lo I was saved. Oh blessed exquisite pain! <br>my heart awoke, for anguish, and felt God. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I saw my father pass out and pass in; <br>sometimes he noted me and spoke a word <br>or looked a careless greeting, oftenest not; <br>I saw him daily, and I learned his face <br>how stern long sorrow made it and how still, <br>and, when some days he could not make a smile, <br>I heard the servants whisper "Do you see? <br>this is his lost son's birthday," or "the day <br>his son fled forth," or else "his baptism," <br>"confirming," "going to school," all such home dates <br>as parents count who watch their children grow: <br>and he was changed, they said, cared not to see <br>friends' faces greeting him, nor join in talk, <br>but would be solitary; changed, they said, <br>since that strange losing of his only child. <br>My mother I saw not in the first days, <br>for she came never forth, but sat and slept, <br>and wakened querulous, and slept again. <br>And Claudia tended her: I had not thought <br>to find her here; I looked she'd count me dead <br>and marry her, ('tis known what women are), <br>and was all startled when I saw her first: <br>but only for the strangeness, after that <br>she was no more to me than I to her, <br>she might have smiled to me, or in my sight, <br>that dangerous smile and I be no more moved <br>than if a babe had laughed as I passed by. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Then a day came, a still and sultry day <br>when one might take count of each leaf that stirred <br>and think the one shrill grasshopper too loud, <br>my mother waked and heard a hymn I sang, <br>and took a whim to have the singer brought: <br>only a whim, belike, for could my voice <br>bring back the stripling's voice she had thought sweet? <br>they fetched me, I stood by her: ah my mother! <br>and she so changed! nothing of her old self; <br>the goodliness, the sweetness, the delight, <br>gone, waned out from her, as the light of day <br>was waning from her eyes long dulled by tears. <br>Ah, could I but have clung about her feet, <br>crying out "Mother, take thy son again!" <br>But yet for her it would have been too late. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">She talked to me, inconsequent grave talk <br>like children's, whispered after when I prayed, <br>and made me sing her hymns, so was content <br>longer than was her wont, then bade me go <br>and come again to-morrow: ever since <br>she calls me every day. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And every day <br>is Claudia there. More than two thousand days, <br>and every day I look on Claudia's face <br>grown wistful and more sweet, and every day <br>behold her patience, hear her wise grave words, <br>and better know her all she is. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">What then? <br>Have I not striven? have I not prevailed? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And now death is at hand: some few days more <br>and I shall lay me down and be at rest. <br>There will be no farewell at last, I think;' <br>they will not know of me that I lie sick <br>and pass away; and, even if they knew, <br>why should they come to close my dying eyes? <br>the beggar Lazarus can die alone, <br>as he has lived alone. My mother, though, <br>will lack me, ask for me, Claudia will send <br>to bid me hasten, then the word will come <br>"He died this morning," and she will not weep <br>but say "Poor wretch: God rest the parted soul," <br>and turn to soothe my mother with some wile <br>to make her never miss me: and may be <br>Euphemianus will not hear the news, <br>or will not note it if he ever hears. <br>So I shall lie in the grave and they not care, <br>but wait for lost Alexius to come home, <br>and mourn for him, half hating him for their grief. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Give me fruit, give me fruit, oh Christ give my earned fruit, <br>for all my sufferings: I have mine for me, <br>but I claim theirs, give fruit for them I smote. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Have I written wildly? I will cancel nought. <br>for I have written looking death in face, <br>thinking God bade me write: and words come so <br>must stand untouched. But surely this much grace <br>my Lord hath given me, that they shall know. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Behold, I make this paper, being forced <br>as by the Spirit, and it comes on me <br>that God doth choose his highest in the world <br>to be the beggar's messenger: he first, <br>and I the last, so thereto he is called; <br>servant of servants. This, which I have witten, <br>do I entrust to him, my testament: <br>some shall learn patience from it and to do <br>what God bids and not doubt; for all is good, <br>all happy, if it be to do His will, <br>the suffering ye may guess, but not the bliss <br>till ye have tasted it. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And I desire <br>that, having scanned the scroll, he shall, or then <br>or later, as seems to his wisdom wise, <br>deliver all its words to them and her, <br>my father and my mother and my wife, <br>(lo, this once in my life I call her so). <br>I pray Thee, Lord, give the poor words the power <br>to comfort them and strengthen; and, I pray, <br>give the words power to strengthen and stir souls <br>which hear Thee call and pause to count with Thee. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And now, oh Lord, let earth be dim to me, <br>and Heaven come near mine eyes: the time is short, <br>and I am fain for thee. Lord Jesus come. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Now, when Pope Innocent had read the scroll, <br>he bade one with him enter in the house <br>and call the lord Euphemianus thither, <br>and Claudia, and Aglaia. So they came, <br>Aglaia feebly leaning on the two, <br>and questioning them who knew not; so they came; <br>and the Pope pointed them to the dead man, <br>"Behold, for this is one whom you should know." <br>Euphemianus gazed and was perplexed: <br>and the poor purblind mother gazed and peered, <br>"Old Lazarus? no, yes, old Lazarus; <br>asleep or dead? Why is it? is he dead?" <br>but Claudia answered softly "Yes I know; <br>I knew it;" and then, suddenly, borne down <br>by one strong gust of passion, flung herself <br>beside the corpse, her head upon its breast, <br>her arms clasped straining round it, weeping out. <br>And Innocent answered the father's eyes, <br>"This was Alexius, thy long lost son." <br>But yet the father, stricken dumb, looked doubt: <br>Aglaia cried "My boy, where is he then?" <br>and fretfully "This is old Lazarus: <br>where is my boy? show me Alexius." </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=349979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Then Innocent bade peace, and read the scroll: <br>Euphemianus, with his face hid down <br>between his hands, listened and never stirred; <br>and Claudia listened, weeping silently; <br>but Aglaia whispered always "Is it true? <br>is the tale of Lazarus or of my boy? <br>I cannot understand." And, when 'twas read, <br>Euphemianus gazed upon his son, <br>"Yet did he well?" he said "he was our son, <br>he was her husband: how could it be well? <br>for look upon his mother, what she is." <br>But Claudia rose up tearless, and replied <br>"Alexius did all well: he knew God called:" <br>and Innocent, not tearless, raised his hand <br>and spoke "She answers wisely: he obeyed; <br>he knew, being a very saint of God: <br>let us bless God for him." And they all knelt. <br>But still Aglaia could not understand.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Augusta+Davies+Webster">Augusta Davies Webster</a></strong></div>

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