The Seeker
A Dramatic Poem in Two Scenes
Scene
I
A woodland valley at evening. Around a wood-fire sit three shepherds; without a curve rises the smoke.
First Shepherd
Heavy with wool the sheep are gathered in,
And through the mansion of the spirit rove
My dreams o’er thoughts of plenty as the red-
Eyed panthers in their desert caverns rove
And rove unceasing round their dreadful brood.
Second Shepherd
O brother, lay thy flute upon thy lips,
It is the voice of all our hearts that laugh.
The first Shepherd puts the flute to his lips; there comes from it a piercing cry. He drops it.
First Shepherd
It is possessed.
Third Shepherd
Nay, give it me, and I will sound a measure;
And unto it we’ll dance upon the sward.
Puts it to his lips. A voice out of the flute still more mournful.
First Shepherd
An omen!
Second Shepherd
An omen!
Third Shepherd
A creeping horror is all over me.
Enter an Old Knight. They cast themselves down before him.
Knight
Are all things well with you and with your sheep?
Second Shepherd
Yes, all is very well.
First Shepherd
Whence comest thou?
Knight
Shepherds, I came this morning to your land
From threescore years of dream-led wandering
Where spice isles nestle on the star-trod seas,
And where the polar winds and waters wrestle
In endless dark, and by the weedy marge
Of India’s rivers, rolling on in light.
But soon my wandering shall be done I know.
A voice has told me how within this land
There lies the long-lost forest of the sprite,
The sullen wood. But many woods I see
Where to themselves innumerable birds
Make moan and cry.
First Shepherd
Within yon sunless valley
Between the horned hills—
Knight
Shepherds, farewell!
And peace be with you, peace and wealth of days.
Second Shepherd
Seek not that wood, for there the goblin snakes
Go up and down, and raise their heads and sing
With little voices songs of fearful things.
Third Shepherd
No shepherd foot has ever dared its depths.
First Shepherd
The very squirrel dies that enters it.
Knight
Shepherds, farewell!
Goes.
Second Shepherd
He soon will be
First Shepherd
Ashes
Before the wind.
Third Shepherd
Saw you his eyes a-glitter,
His body shake?
Second Shepherd
Aye, quivering as yon smoke
That from the fire is ever pouring up,
Within the woodways, blue as the halcyon’s wing,
Star-envious.
Third Shepherd
He was a spirit, brother.
Second Shepherd
The blessed God was good to send us such,
To make us glad with wonder as we sat
Weary of watching round the fire at night.
Scene
II
A ruined palace in the forest. Away in the depth of the shadow of the pillars a motionless Figure.
Enter the Old Knight.
Knight
Behold I bend before thee to the ground
Until my beard is in the twisted leaves
That with their fiery ruin fill the hall,
As words of thine through fourscore years have filled
My echoing heart. Now raise thy voice and speak!
Even from boyhood, in my father’s house,
That was beside the waterfall, thy words
Abode as banded adders in my breast.
Thou knowest this, and how from mid the dance
Thou called’st me forth,
And how thou madest me
A coward in the field; and all men cried:
Behold the Knight of the Waterfall, whose heart
The spirits stole, and gave him in its stead
A peering hare’s; and yet I murmured not,
Knowing that thou hadst singled me with word
Of love from out a dreamless race for strife,
Through miseries unhuman ever on
To joys unhuman, and to thee—Speak! Speak
He draws nearer to the Figure. A pause.
Behold I bend before thee to the ground;
Thou wilt not speak, and I with age am near
To Death. His lips are glued, with quivering touch,
To mine, and he is slowly sucking forth
My soul. His darkness and his chill I feel.
Were all my wandering days of no avail
Untouched of human joy or human love?
Then let me see thy face before I die.
Behold I bow before thee to the ground!
Behold I bow! Around my beard in drifts
Lie strewn the clotted leaves—the dead old leaves.
He gathers up the leaves and presses them to his breast.
Thou wilt not speak, Oh cruel art thou yet!
Mine heart-strings are all broken saving one,
That trembles and resounds with hymns to thee,
That fill the blazing hollows of my heart.
I’m dying! Oh forgive me if I touch
Thy garment’s hem, thou visionary one!
He approaches close to the Figure. A sudden light bursts over it.
Knight
A bearded witch, her sluggish head low bent
On her broad breast! beneath her withered brows
Shine dull unmoving eyes. What thing art thou?
I sought thee not.
Figure
Men call me Infamy.
I know not what I am.
Knight
I sought thee not.
Figure
Lover, the voice that summoned thee was mine.
Knight
For all I gave the voice, for all my youth,
For all my joy.—Ah woe!
The Figure raises a mirror in which the face and the form of the Knight are shadowed. He falls forward.
The Figure
Bending over him and speaking in his ear.
What! Lover, die before our lips have met?
Knight
Again, the voice! the voice!
Dies.