Christmas eve . * That man is dead ? Yes, but for me—my name called,—drawn As a conscripts lot from the laps black yawn,He has dipt into on a battle-dawn:Bid out of life by a nod, a glance,—Stumbling, mute-mazed, at natures chance,—With a rapid finger circled round, 57 CHRISTMAS-EVE Fixed to the first poor inch of ground To fight from, where his foot was found; Whose ear but a minute since lay free To the wide camps buzz and gossipry— Summoned, a solitary man To end his life where his life began, From the safe glad rear, to the dreadful van!Soul of mine, hadst thou caught and heldBy the hem of
Christmas eve . * That man is dead ? Yes, but for me—my name called,—drawn As a conscripts lot from the laps black yawn,He has dipt into on a battle-dawn:Bid out of life by a nod, a glance,—Stumbling, mute-mazed, at natures chance,—With a rapid finger circled round, 57 CHRISTMAS-EVE Fixed to the first poor inch of ground To fight from, where his foot was found; Whose ear but a minute since lay free To the wide camps buzz and gossipry— Summoned, a solitary man To end his life where his life began, From the safe glad rear, to the dreadful van!Soul of mine, hadst thou caught and heldBy the hem of the vesture!— XXI And I caughtAt the flying robe, and unrepelled Was lapped again in its folds full-fraughtWith warmth and wonder and delight,Gods mercy being scarce had the words escaped my tongue,When, at a passionate bound, I sprung,Out of the wandering world of rain,Into the little chapel again. XXII How else was I found there, bolt uprightOn my bench, as if I had never left it ? 58. And the old fat woman . . Eyed me with symptoms, hardly mistakable, Of her milk of kindness turning rancid. CHRISTMAS-EVE —Never flung out on the common at night, Nor met the storm and wedge-like cleft it,Seen the raree-show of Peters successor,Or the laboratory of the Professor!For the Vision, that was true, I wist,True as that heaven and earth sat my friend, the yellow and tall,With his neck and its wen in the selfsame place;Yet my nearest neighbours cheek showed had slid away a contemptuous space:And the old fat woman, late so placable,Eyed me with symptoms, hardly mistakable,Of her milk of kindness turning short, a spectator might have fanciedThat I had nodded, betrayed by kept my seat, a warning ghastly,Through the heads of the sermon, nine in number,And woke up now at the tenth and again, could such disgrace have happened ?Each friend at my elbow had surely nudged it: 59 CHRISTMAS-EVE And, as for the sermon,
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Keywords: ., bookauthorbrowning, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1906
