Clarel/Part 2/Canto 15

15. The Fountain
It brake, it brake how long ago, That rnorn which saw thy marvel done, Elisha--healing of the spring! A good deed lives, the doer low: See how the waters eager run With bounty which they chiming bring: So out of Eden's bounds afar Hymned Pison through green Havilah! But ill those words in tone impart The simple feelings in the heart Of Nehemiah--full of the theme, Standing beside the marge, with cup, And pearls of water-beads adroop Down thinnish beard of silvery gleam. "Truly," said Derwent, glad to note That Achor found her antidote, "Truly, the fount wells grateful here." Then to the student: "For the rest, The site is pleasant; nor unblest These thickets by their shade endear." Assent half vacant Clarel gave, Watching that miracle the wave. Said Rolfe, reclining by the rill, "Needs life must end or soon or late: Perchance set down it is in fate That fail I must ere we fulfill Our travel. Should it happen true-- Attention, pray--I mend my will, And name executors in you: Bury me by the road, somewhere Near spring or brook. Palms plant me there, And seats with backs to them, all stone: In peace then go. The years shall run, And green my grave shall be, and play The part of host to all that stray In desert: water, shade, and rest Their entertainment. So I'll win Balm to my soul by each poor guest

That solaced leaves the Dead Man's Inn. But charges, mind, yourselves defray-- Seeing I've naught."                 Where thrown he lay, Vine, sensitive, suffused did show, Yet looked not up, but seemed to weigh The nature of the heart whose trim Of quaint goodfellowship could so Strike on a chord long slack in him.  But how may spirit quick and deep A constancy unfreakish keep? A reed there shaken fitfully He marks: "Was't this we came to see In wilderness?" and rueful smiled. The meek one, otherwise beguiled, Here chancing now the ass to note Languidly munching straw and bran, Drew nigh, and smoothed the roughened coat, And gave her bread, the wheaten grain.  Vine watches; and his aspect knows A flush of diffident humor: "Nay, Me too, me too let wait, I pray, On our snubbed kin here;" and he rose.

Erelong, alert the escort show:

'Tis stirrups. But the Swede moved not, Aloof abiding in dark plot Made by the deeper shadow: "Go-- My horse lead; but for me, I stay Some bread--there, that small loaf will do: It is my whim--my whim, I say; Mount, heed not me."--"And how long, pray? Asked Derwent, startled: "eve draws on: Ye would not tarry here alone?" "Thou man of God, nor desert here, Nor Zin, nor Obi, yieldeth fear If God but be- but be! This waste-- Soon shall night fold the hemisphere; But safer then to lay me down, Here, by yon evil Summit faced--

Safer than in the cut-throat town Though on the church-steps. Go from me-- Begone! To-morrow or next day Jordan ye greet, then round ye sway And win Lot's marge. In sight ye'll be: I'll intercept. Ride on, go--nay, Bewitched, why gape ye so at me? Shall man not take the natural way With nature? Tut, fling me the cloak!" Away, precipitate he broke, The skull-cap glooming thro' the glade: They paused, nor ventured to invade.

While so, not unconcerned, they stood, The Druze said, "Well, let be. Why chafe? Nights here are mild; one's pretty safe When fearless.--Belex! come, the road!"