Jochanan Hakkadosh

"This now, this other story makes amends And justifies our Mishna," quoth the Jew Aforesaid. "Tell it, learnedest of friends!"

—————

A certain morn broke beautiful and blue O'er Schiphaz city, bringing joy and mirth, —So had ye deemed; while the reverse was true,

Since one small house there gave a sorrow birth In such black sort that, to each faithful eye, Midnight, not morning settled on the earth.

How else, when it grew certain thou wouldst die, Our much-enlightened master, Israel's prop, Eximious Jochanan Ben Sabbathai?

Old, yea, but, undiminished of a drop, The vital essence pulsed through heart and brain; Time left unsickled yet the plenteous crop

On poll and chin and cheek, whereof a skein Handmaids might weave—hairs silk-soft, silver-white, Such as the wool-plant's; none the less in vain

Had Physic striven her best against the spite Of fell disease: the Rabbi must succumb; And, round the couch whereon in piteous plight

He lay a-dying, scholars,—awe-struck, dumb Throughout the night-watch,—roused themselves and spoke One to the other: "Ere death's touch benumb

"His active sense,—while yet 'neath Reason's yoke Obedient toils his tongue,—befits we claim The fruit of long experience, bid this oak

"Shed us an acorn which may, all the same, Grow to a temple-pillar,—dear that day!— When Israel's scattered seed finds place and name

"Among the envious nations. Lamp us, pray, Thou the Knlightener! Partest hence in peace? Hailest without regret—much less, dismay—

"The hour of thine approximate release From fleshly bondage soul hath found obstruct? Calmly envisagest the sure increase

"Of knowledge? Eden's tree must hold unplucked Some apple, sure, has never tried thy tooth, Juicy with sapience thou hast sought, not sucked?

"Say, does agn acquiesce in vanished youth?  Still towers thy purity above—as erst— Our pleasant follies? Be thy last word—truth!"

The Rabbi groaned; then, grimly, "Last as first The truth speak I—in boyhood who began Striving to live an angel, and, amerced

"For such presumption, die now hardly man. What have I proved of life? To live, indeed, That much I learned: but here lies Jochanan

"More luckless than stood David when, to speed His fighting with the Philistine, they brought  Saul's harness forth: whereat, 'Alack, I need

" 'Armour to arm me, but have never fought With sword and spear, nor tried to manage shield, Proving arms' use, as well-trained warrior ought.

" 'Only a sling and pebbles can I wield!' So he: while I, contrariwise, 'No trick Of weapon helpful on the battle-field

"Comes unfamiliar to my theoric: But, bid me put in practice what I know, Give me a sword—it stings like Moses' stick,

" 'A serpent I let drop apace.' E'en so, I,—able to comport me at each stage Of human life as never here below

"Man played his part,—since mine the heritage Of wisdom carried to that perfect pitch, Ye rightly praise,—I therefore, who, thus sage,

"Could sure act man triumphantly, enrich Life's annals with example how I played Lover, Bard, Soldier, Statist,—(all of which

"Parts in presentment failing, cries invade  The world's ear—'Ah, the Past, the pearl-gift thrown To hogs, time's opportunity we made

" 'So light of, only recognized when flown! Had we been wise!')—in fine, I—wise enough,— What profit brings me wisdom never shown

"Just when its showing would from each rebuff Shelter weak virtue, threaten back to bounds Encroaching vice, tread smooth each track too rough

"For youth's unsteady footstep, climb the rounds Of life's long ladder, one by slippery one,  Yet make no stumble? Me hard fate confounds

"With that same crowd of wailers I outrun By promising to teach another cry Of more hilarious mood than theirs, the sun

"I look my last at is insulted by. What cry,—ye ask? Give ear on every side! Witness yon Lover! 'How entrapped am I!

" 'Methought, because a virgin's rose-lip vied With ripe Khubbezleh's, needs must beauty mate With meekness and discretion in a bride:

" 'Bride she became to me who wail—too late— Unwise I loved!' That's one cry. 'Mind's my gift: I might have loaded me with lore, full weight

" 'Pressed down and running over at each rift O' the brain-bag where the famished clung and fed. I filled it with what rubbish!—would not sift

" 'The wheat from chaff, sound grain from musty—shed Poison abroad as oft as nutriment— And sighing say but as my fellows said,

" Unwise I learned! That's two. 'In dwarf's-play spent  Was giant's prowess: warrior all unversed In war's right waging, I struck brand, was lent

" 'For steel's fit service, on mere stone—and cursed Alike the shocked limb and the shivered steel, Seeing too late the blade's true use which erst

" 'How was I blind to! My cry swells the peal— Unwise I fought!' That's three. But wherefore waste Breath on the wailings longer? Why reveal

"A root of bitterness whereof the taste Is noisome to Humanity at large?  First we get Power, but Power absurdly placed

"In Folly's keeping, who resigns her charge To Wisdom when all Power grows nothing worth Bones marrowless are mocked with helm and targe

"When, like your Master's, soon below the earth With worms shall warfare only be. Fare well, Children! I die a failure since my birth!"

"Not so!" arose a protest as, pell-mell, They pattered from his chamber to the street, Bent on a last resource. Our Targums tell

That such resource there is. Put case, there meet The Nine Points of Perfection—rarest chance— Within some saintly teacher whom the fleet

Years, in their blind implacable advance, O'ertake beforeflit teaching born of these Have magnified his scholars' countenance,—

If haply folk compassionating please To render up—according to his store, Each one—a portion of the life he sees

Hardly worth saving when 'tis set before Earth's benefit should the Saint, Hakkadosh, Favoured thereby, attain to full fourscore—

If such contribute (Scoffer, spare thy "Bosh!") A year, a month, a day, an hour—to eke Life out,—in him away the gift shall wash

That much of ill-spent time recorded, streak The twilight of the so-assisted sage With a new sunrise: truth, though strange to speak!

Quick to the doorway, then, where youth and age, All Israel, thronging, waited for the last News of the loved one. "'Tis the final stage:

"Art's utmost done, the Rabbi's feet tread fast The way of all flesh!" So announced that apt Olive-branch Tsaddik: "Yet, O Brethren, cast

"No eye to earthward! Look where heaven has clapped Morning's extinguisher—yon ray-shot robe Of sun-threads—on the constellation mapped

"And mentioned by our Elders,—yea, from Job Down to Satam,—as figuring forth—what? Perpend a mystery! Ye call it Dob,

" 'The Bear': I trow, a wiser name than that Were Aisch—'The Bier': a corpse those four stars hold, Which—are not those Three Daughters weeping at,

"Banoth? I judge so: list while I unfold The reason. As in twice twelve hours this Bier Goes and returns, about the East-cone rolled,

"So may a setting luminary here Be rescued from extinction, rolled anew Upon its track of labour, strong and clear,

"About the Pole—that Salem, every Jew  Helps to build up when thus he saves some Saint Ordained its architect. Ye grasp the clue

"To all ye seek? The Rabbi's lamp-flame faint Sinks: would ye raise it? Lend then life from yours, Spare each his oil-drop! Do I need acquaint

"The Chosen how self-sacrifice ensures Tenfold requital?—urge ye emulate The fame of those Old Just Ones death procures

"Such praise for, that 'tis now men's sole debate Which of the Ten who volunteered at Rome  To die for glory to our Race, was great

"Beyond his fellows? Was it thou—the comb Of iron carded, flesh from bone, away, While thy lips sputtered thro' their bloody foam

"Without a stoppage (O brave Akiba!) 'Hear, Israel, our Lord God is One'? Or thou, Jischab?—who smiledst, burning, since there lay,

"Burning along with thee, our Law! I trow, Such martyrdom might tax flesh to afford: While that for which I make petition now,

"To what amounts it? Youngster, wilt thou hoard Each minute of long years thou look'st to spend In dalliance with thy spouse? Hast thou so soared,

"Singer of songs, all out of sight of friend And teacher, warbling like a woodland bird, There's left no Selah, 'twixt two psalms, to lend

"Our late-so-tuneful quirist? Thou, averred The fighter born to plant our lion-flag Once more on Zion's mount,—doth, all-unheard,

"My pleading fail to move thee? Toss some rag  Shall staunch our wound, some minute never missed From swordsman's lustihood like thine! Wilt lag

"In liberal bestowment, show close fist When open palm we look for,—thou, wide-known For statecraft? whom, 'tis said, an if thou list,

"The Shah himself would seat beside his throne. So valued were advice from thee". . . But here He stopped short: such a hubbub! Not alone

From those addressed, but far as well as near The crowd broke into clamour: "Mine, mine, mine—  Lop from my life the excrescence, never fear!

"At me thou lookedst, markedst me! Assign To me that privilege of granting life— Mine, mine!" Then he: "Be patient! I combine

"The needful portions only, wage no strife With Nature's law nor seek to lengthen out The Rabbi's day unduly. 'Tis the knife

"I stop,—would cut its thread too short. About As much as helps life last the proper term, The appointed Fourscore,—that I crave, and scout

"A too-prolonged existence. Let the worm Change at fit season to the butterfly! And here a story strikes me, to confirm

"This judgment. Of our worthies, none ranks high As Perida who kept the famous school: None rivalled him in patience: none! For why?

"In lecturing it was his constant rule, Whatever he expounded, to repeat —Ay, and keep on repeating, lest some fool

"Should fail to understand him fully—(feat  Unparalleled, Uzzean!)—do ye mark?— Five hundred times! So might he entrance beat

"For knowledge into howsoever dark And dense the brain-pan. Yet it happed, at close Of one especial lecture, not one spark

"Of light was found to have illumed the rows Of pupils round their pedagogue. 'What, still Impenetrable to me? Then—here goes!'

"And for a second time he sets the rill Of knowledge running, and five hundred times  More re-repeats the matter—and gains nil.

"Out broke a voice from heaven: 'Thy patience climbs Even thus high. Choose! Wilt thou, rather, quick Ascend to bliss—or, since thy zeal sublimes

" 'Such drudgery, will thy back still bear its crick, Bent o'er thy class,—thy voice drone spite of drouth,— Five hundred years more at thy desk wilt stick?'

" 'To heaven with me!' was in the good man's mouth, When all his scholars—cruel-kind were they!— Stopped utterance, from East, West, North and South,

"Rending the welkin with their shout of 'Nay— No heaven as yet for our instructor! Grant Five hundred years on earth for Perida!'

"And so long did he keep instructing! Want Our Master no such misery! I but take Three months of life marital. Ministrant

"Be thou of so much, Poet! Bold I make, Swordsman, with thy frank offer!—and conclude, Statist, with thine! One year,—ye will not shake

"My purpose to accept no more. So rude?  The very boys and girls, forsooth, must press And proffer their addition? Thanks! The mood

"Is laudable, but I reject, no less, One month, week, day of life more. Leave my gown, Ye overbold ones! Your life's gift, you guess,

"Were good as any? Rudesby, get thee down! Set my feet free, or fear my staff! Farewell, Seniors and saviours, sharers of renown

"With Jochanan henceforward!" Straightway fell Sleep on the sufferer; who awoke in health, Hale everyway, so potent was the spell.

—————

O the rare Spring-time! Who is he by stealth Approaches Jochanan?—embowered that sits Under his vine and figtree mid the wealth

Of garden-sights and sounds, since intermits Never the turtle's coo, nor stays nor stints The rose her smell. In homage that befits

The musing Master, Tsaddik, see, imprints A kiss on the extended foot, low bends Forehead to earth, then, all-obsequious, hints

"What if it should be time? A period ends— That of the Lover's gift—his quarter-year Of lustihood: 'tis just thou make amends,

"Return that loan with usury: so, here Come I, of thy Disciples delegate, Claiming our lesson from thee. Make appear

"Thy profit from experience! Plainly state How men should Love!" Thus he: and to him thus The Rabbi: "Love, ye call it?—rather, Hate!

"What wouldst thou? Is it needful I discuss  Wherefore new sweet wine, poured in bottles caked With old strong wine's deposit, otters us

"Spoilt liquor we recoil from, thirst-unslaked? Like earth-smoke from a crevice, out there wound Languors and yearnings: not a sense but ached

"Weighed on by fancied form and feature, sound Of silver word and sight of sunny smile: No beckoning of a flower-branch, no profound

'— Purple of noon-oppression, no light wile O' the West wind, but transformed itself till—brief— Before me stood the phantasy ye style

"Youth's love, the joy that shall not come to grief, Born to endure, eternal, unimpaired By custom the accloyer, time the thief.

"Had Age's hard cold knowledge only spared That ignorance of Youth! But now the dream, Fresh as from Paradise, alighting fared

"As fares the pigeon, finding what may seem Her nest's safe hollow holds a snake inside Coiled to enclasp her. See, Eve stands supreme

"In youth and beauty! Take her for thy bride! What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew Morn set a-sparkle, but which noon has dried

"While Youth hent gazing at its red and blue Supposed perennial,—never dreamed the sun Which kindled the display would quench it too.

"Graces of shape and colour—everyone With its appointed period of decay When ripe to purpose! 'Still, these dead and done,

" 'Survives the woman-nature—the soft sway  Of undefinable omnipotence O'er our strong male-stuff, we of Adam's clay.'

"Ay, if my physics taught not why and whence The attraction! Am I like the simple steer Who, from his pasture lured inside the fence,

"Where yoke and goad await him, holds that mere Kindliness prompts extension of the hand Hollowed for barley, which drew near and near

"His nose—in proof that, of the horned band, The farmer best affected him? Beside,  Steer, long since calfhood, got to understand

"Farmers a many in the world so wide Were ready with a handful just as choice Or choicer—maize and cummin, treats untried.

"Shall I wed wife, and all my days rejoice I gained the peacock? 'Las me, round I look, And lo—'With me thou would'st have blamed no voice

" 'Like hers that daily deafens like a rook: I am the phoenix!'—'I, the lark, the dove, —The owl,' for aught knows he who blindly took

"Peacock for partner, while the vale, the grove, The plain held bird-mates in abundance. There! Youth, try fresh capture! Age has found out Love

"Long ago. War seems better worth man's care. But leave me! Disappointment finds a balm Haply in slumber." "This first step o' the stair

"To knowledge fails me, but the victor's palm Lies on the next to tempt him overleap A stumbling-block. Experienced, gather calm,

"Thou excellence of Judah, cured by sleep  Which ushers in the Warrior, to replace The Lover! At due season I shall reap

"Fruit of my planting!" So, with lengthened face, Departed Tsaddik: and three moons more waxed And waned, and not until the Summer-space

Waned likewise, any second visit taxed The Rabbi's patience. But at three months' end, Behold, supine beneath a rock, relaxed

The sage lay musing till the noon should spend Its ardour. Up comes Tsaddik, who but he, With "Master, may I warn thee, nor offend,

"That time comes round again? We look to see Sprout from the old branch—not the youngling twig— But fruit of sycamine: deliver me,

"To share among my fellows, some plump fig, Juicy as seedy! That same man of war, Who, with a scantling of his store, made big

"Thy starveling nature, caused thee, safe from scar, To share his gains by long acquaintanceship With bump and bruise and all the knocks that are

"Of battle dowry,—he bids loose thy lip, Explain the good of battle! Since thou know'st, Let us know likewise! Fast the moments slip,

"More need that we improve them!"—"Ay, we boast, We warriors in our youth, that with the sword Man goes the swiftliest to the uttermost—

"Takes the straight way thro' lands yet unexplored To absolute Right and Good,—may so obtain God's glory and man's weal too long ignored,

"Too late attained by preachments all in vain—  The passive process. Knots get tangled worse By toying with: does cut cord close again?

"Moreover there is blessing in the curse Peace-praisers call war. What so sure evolves All the capacities of soul, proves nurse

"Of that self-sacrifice in men which solves The riddle—Wherein differs Man from beast? Foxes boast cleverness and courage wolves:

"Nowhere but in mankind is found the least Touch of an impulse 'To our fellows—good  I' the highest!—not diminished but increased

" 'By the condition plainly understood —Such good shall be attained at price of hurt I' the highest to ourselves!' Fine sparks, that brood

"Confusedly in Man, 'tis war bids spurt Forth into flame: as fares the meteor-mass, Whereof no particle but holds inert

"Some seed of light and heat, however crass The enclosure, yet avails not to discharge Its radiant birth before there come to pass

"Some push external,—strong to set at large Those dormant fire-seeds, whirl them in a trice Through heaven, and light up earth from marge to marge:

"Since force by motion makes—what erst was ice— Crash into fervency and so expire, Because some Djinn has hit on a device

"For proving the full prettiness of fire! Ay, thus we prattle—young: but old—why, first, Where's that same Right and Good—(the wise inquire)—

"So absolute, it warrants the outburst  Of blood, tears, all war's woeful consequence, That comes of the fine flaring? Which plague cursed

"The more your benefited Man—offence, Or what suppressed the offender? Say it did— Show us the evil cured by violence,

"Submission cures not also! Lift the lid From the maturing crucible, we find Its slow sure coaxing-out of virtue, hid

"In that same meteor-mass, hath uncombined Those particles and, yielding for result  Gold, not mere flame, by so much leaves behind

"The heroic product. E'en the simple cult Of Edom's children wisely bids them turn Cheek to the smiter with Sic Jesus vult.

"Say there's a tyrant by whose death we earn Freedom, and justify a war to wage: Good!—were we only able to discern

"Exactly how to reach and catch and cage Him only and no innocent beside! Whereas the folk whereon war wreaks its rage

"—How shared they his ill-doing? Far and wide The victims of our warfare strew the plain, Ten thousand dead, thereof not one but died

"In faith that vassals owed their suzerain Life: therefore each paid tribute,—honest soul,— To that same Right and Good ourselves are fain

"To claim exclusively our end. From bole (Since ye accept in me a sycamine) Pluck, eat, digest a fable—yea, the sole

"Fig I afford you! 'Dost thou dwarf my vine?'  (So did a certain husbandman address The tree which faced his field.) 'Receive condign

" 'Punishment, prompt removal by the stress Of axe I forthwith lay unto thy root!' Long did he hack and hew, the root no less

"As long defied him, for its tough strings shoot As deep down as the boughs above aspire: All that he did was—shake to the tree's foot

"Leafage and fruitage, things we most require For shadow and refreshment: which good deed  Thoroughly done, behold the axe-haft tires

"His hand, and he desisting leaves unfreed The vine he hacked and hewed for. Comes a frost, One natural night's work, and there's little need

"Of hacking, hewing: lo, the tree's a ghost! Perished it starves, black death from topmost bough To farthest-reaching fibre! Shall I boast

"My rough work,—warfare,—helped more? Loving, now— That, by comparison, seems wiser, since The loving fool was able to avow

"He could effect his purpose, just evince Love's willingness,—once 'ware of what she lacked, His loved one,—to go work for that, nor wince

"At self-expenditure: he neither hacked Nor hewed, but when the lady of his field Required defence because the sun attacked,

"He, failing to obtain a fitter shield, Would interpose his body, and so blaze, Blest in the burning. Ah, were mine to wield

"The intellectual weapon—poet-lays,—  How preferably had I sung one song Which . . . but my sadness sinks me: go your ways!

"I sleep out disappointment." "Come along, Never lose heart! There's still as much again Of our bestowment left to right the wrong

"Done by its earlier moiety—explain Wherefore, who may! The Poet's mood comes next. Was he not wishful the poetic vein

"Should pulse within him? Jochanan, thou reck'st Little of what a generous flood shall soon  Float thy clogged spirit free and unperplexed

"Above dry dubitation! Song's the boon Shall make amends for my untoward mistake That Joshua-like thou could'st bid sun and moon—

"Fighter and Lover,—which for most men make All they descry in heaven,—stand both stock-still And lend assistance. Poet shalt thou wake!"

Autumn brings Tsaddik. "Ay, there speeds the rill Loaded with leaves: a scowling sky, beside: The wind makes olive-trees up yonder hill

"Whiten and shudder—symptoms far and wide Of gleaning-time's approach; and glean good store May I presume to trust we shall, thou tried

"And ripe experimenter! Three months more Have ministered to growth of Song: that graft Into thy sterile stock has found at core

"Moisture, I warrant, hitherto unquaffed By boughs, however florid, wanting sap Of prose-experience which provides the draught

"Mere song-sprouts, wanting, wither: vain we tap  A youngling stem all green and immature; Experience must secrete the stuff, our hap

"Will be to quench Man's thirst with, glad and sure That fancy wells up through corrective fact: Missing which test of truth, though flowers allure

"The goodman's eye with promise, soon the pact Is broken, and 'tis flowers,—mere words,—he finds When things,—that's fruit,—he looked for. Well, once cracked

"The nut, how glad my tooth the kernel grinds! Song may henceforth boast substance! Therefore, hail  Proser and poet, perfect in both kinds!

"Thou from whose eye hath dropped the envious scale Which hides the truth of things and substitutes Deceptive show, unaided optics fail

"To transpierce,—hast entrusted to the lute's Soft but sure guardianship some unrevealed Secret shall lift mankind above the brutes

"As only knowledge can?" "A fount unsealed" (Sighed Jochanan) "should seek the heaven in leaps To die in dew-gems—not find death, congealed

"By contact with the cavern's nether deeps, Earth's secretest foundation where, enswathed In dark and fear, primaeval mystery sleeps—

"Petrific fount wherein my fancies bathed And straight turned ice. My dreams of good and fair In soaring upwards had dissolved, unscathed

"By any influence of the kindly air, Singing, as each took flight, The Future—that's Our destination, mists turn rainbows there,

"Which sink to fog, confounded in the flats  O' the Present! Day's the song-time for the lark, Night for her music boasts but owls and bats.

"And what's the Past but night—the deep and dark Ice-spring I speak of, corpse-thicked with its drowned Dead fancies which no sooner touched the mark

"They aimed at—fact—than all at once they found Their film-wings freeze, henceforth unfit to reach And roll in aether, revel—robed and crowned

"As truths, confirmed by falsehood all and each— Sovereign and absolute and ultimate!  Up with them, skyward, Youth, ere Age impeach

"Thy least of promises to re-instate Adam in Eden! Sing on, ever sing, Chirp till thou burst!—the fool cicada's fate,

"Who holds that after Summer next comes Spring, Than Summer's self sun-warmed, spice-scented more. Fighting was better! There, no fancy-fling

"Pitches you past the point was reached of yore By Sampsons, Abners, Joabs, Judases, The mighty men of valour who, before

"Our little day, did wonders none profess To doubt were fable and not fact, so trust By fancy-flights to emulate much less.

"Were I a Statesman, now! Why, that were just To pinnacle my soul, mankind above, A-top the universe: no vulgar lust

"To gratify—fame, greed, at this remove Looked down upon so far—or overlooked So largely, rather—that mine eye should rove

"World-wide and rummage earth, the many-nooked,  Yet find no unit of the human flock Caught straying but straight comes back hooked and crooked

"By the strong shepherd who, from out his stock Of aids proceeds to treat each ailing fleece, Here stimulate to growth, curtail and dock

"There, baldness or excrescence,—that, with grease, This, with up-grubbing of the bristly patch Born of the tick-bite. How supreme a peace

"Steals o'er the Statist,—while, in wit, a match For shrewd Ahithophel, in wisdom . . . well,  His name escapes me—somebody, at watch

"And ward, the fellow of Ahithophel In guidance of the Chosen!"—at which word Eyes closed and fast asleep the Rabbi fell.

"Cold weather!" shivered Tsaddik. "Yet the hoard Of the sagacious ant shows garnered grain, Ever abundant most when fields afford

"Least pasture, and alike disgrace the plain Tall tree and lowly shrub. 'Tis so with us Mortals: our age stores wealth ye seek in vain

"While busy youth culls just what we discuss At leisure in the last days: and the last Truly are these for Jochanan, whom thus

"I make one more appeal to! Thine amassed Experience, now or never, let escape Some portion of! For I perceive aghast

"The end approaches, while they jeer and jape, These sons of Shimei: 'Justify your boast! What have ye gained from Death by twelve months' rape?'

"Statesman, what cure hast thou for—least and most—  Popular grievances? What nostrum, say, Will make the Rich and Poor, expertly dosed,

"Forget disparity, bid each go gay, That, with his bauble,—with his burden, this? Propose an alkahest shall melt away

"Men's lacquer, show by prompt analysis Which is the metal, which the make-believe, So that no longer brass shall find, gold miss

"Coinage and currency? Make haste, retrieve The precious moments, Master!" Whereunto There snarls an "Ever laughing in thy sleeve,

"Pert Tsaddik? Youth indeed sees plain a clue To guide man where life's wood is intricate: How shall he fail to thrid its thickets through

"When every oak-trunk takes the eye? Elate He goes from bole to brushwood, plunging finds— Smothered in briars—that the small's the great!

"All men are men: I would all minds were minds! Whereas 'tis just the many's mindless mass That most needs helping: labourers and hinds

"We legislate for—not the cultured class Which law-makes for itself nor needs the whip And bridle,—proper help for mule and ass,

"Did the brutes know! In vain our statesmanship Strives at contenting the rough multitude: Still the ox cries ' 'Tis me thou shouldst equip

" 'With equine trappings!' or, in humbler mood, 'Cribful of corn for me! and, as for work— Adequate rumination o'er my food!'

"Better remain a Poet! Needs it irk  Such an one if light, kindled in his sphere, Fail to transfuse the Mizraim cold and murk

"Round about Goshen? Though light disappear, Shut inside,—temporary ignorance Got outside of, lo, light emerging clear

"Shows each astonished starer the expanse Of heaven made bright with knowledge! That's the way, The only way—I see it at a glance—

"To legislate for earth! As poet . . . Stay! What is . . . I would that . . . were it . . . I had been . . .  O sudden change, as if my arid clay

"Burst into bloom! . . ." "A change indeed, I ween, And change the last!" sighed Tsaddik as he kissed The closing eyelids. "Just as those serene

"Princes of Night apprised me! Our acquist Of life is spent, since corners only four Hath Aisch, and each in turn was made desist

"In passage round the Pole (O Mishna's lore— Little it profits here!) by strenuous tug Of friends who eked out thus to full fourscore

"The Rabbi's years. I see each shoulder shrug! What have we gained? Away the Bier may roll! To-morrow, when the Master's grave is dug,

"In with his body I may pitch the scroll I hoped to glorify with, text and gloss, My Science of Man's Life: one blank's the whole!

"Love, war, song, statesmanship—no gain, all loss, The stars' bestowment! We on our return To-morrow merely find—not gold but dross,

"The body not the soul. Come, friends, we learn  At least thus much by our experiment— That—that . . . well, find what, whom it may concern!"

But next day through the city rumours went Of a new persecution; so, they fled All Israel, each man,—this time,—from his tent,

Tsaddik among the foremost. When, the dread Subsiding, Israel ventured back again Some three months after, to the cave they sped

Where lay the Sage,—a reverential train! Tsaddik first enters. "What is this I view?  The Rabbi still alive? No stars remain

"Of Aisch to stop within their courses. True, I mind me, certain gamesome boys must urge Their offerings on me: can it be—one threw

"Life at him and it stuck? There needs the scourge To teach that urchin manners! Prithee, grant Forgiveness if we pretermit thy dirge

"Just to explain no friend was ministrant, This time, of life to thee! Some jackanapes, I gather, has presumed to foist his scant

"Scurvy unripe existence—wilding grapes Grass-green and sorrel-sour—on that grand wine, Mighty as mellow, which, so fancy shapes

"May fitly image forth this life of thine Fed on the last low fattening lees—condensed Elixir, no milk-mildness of the vine!

"Rightly with Tsaddik wert thou now incensed Had he been witting of the mischief wrought When, for elixir, verjuice he dispensed!"

And slowly woke,—like Shushan's flower besought By over-curious handling to unloose The curtained secrecy wherein she thought

Her captive bee, mid store of sweets to choose, Would loll in gold, pavilioned lie unteased, Sucking on, sated never,—whose, O whose

Might seem that countenance, uplift, all eased Of old distraction and bewilderment, Absurdly happy? "How ye have appeased

"The strife within me, bred this whole content, This utter acquiescence in my past  Present and future life,—by whom was lent

"The power to work this miracle at last,— Exceeds my guess. Though—ignorance confirmed By knowledge sounds like paradox, I cast

"Vainly about to tell you—fitlier termed— Of calm struck by encountering opposites, Each nullifying either! Henceforth wormed

"From out my heart is every snake that bites The dove that else would brood there: doubt, which kills With hiss of 'What if sorrows end delights?'

"Fear which stings ease with 'Work the Master wills!' Experience which coils round and strangles quick Each hope with 'Ask the Past if hoping skills

" 'To work accomplishment, or proves a trick Wiling thee to endeavour! Strive, fool, stop Nowise, so live, so die—that's law! why kick

" 'Against the pricks?' All out-wormed! Slumber, drop Thy films once more and veil the bliss within! Experience strangle hope? Hope waves a-top

"Her wings triumphant! Come what will, I win,  Whoever loses! Every dream's assured Of soberest fulfilment. Where's a sin

"Except in doubting that the light, which lured The unwary into darkness, meant no wrong Had I but marched on bold, nor paused immured

"By mists I should have pressed thro', passed along My way henceforth rejoicing? Not the boy's Passionate impulse he conceits so strong,

"Which, at first touch, truth, bubble-like, destroys,— Not the man's slow conviction 'Vanity  Of vanities—alike my griefs and joys!'

"Ice!—thawed (look up) each bird, each insect by— (Look round) by all the plants that break in bloom, (Look down) by every dead friend's memory

"That smiles 'Am I the dust within my tomb?' Not either, but both these—amalgam rare— Mix in a product, not from Nature's womb,

"But stuff which He the Operant—who shall dare Describe His operation?—strikes alive And thaumaturgic. I nor know nor care

"How from this tohu-bohu—hopes which dive, And fears which soar—faith, ruined through and through By doubt, and doubt, faith treads to dust—revive

"In some surprising sort,—as see, they do!— Not merely foes no longer but fast friends. What does it mean unless—O strange and new

"Discovery!—this life proves a wine-press—blends Evil and good, both fruits of Paradise, Into a novel drink which—who intends

"To quaff, must bear a brain for ecstasies  Attempered, not this all-inadequate Organ which, quivering within me, dies

"—Nay, lives!—what, how,—too soon, or else too late— I was—I am . . ." ("He babbleth!" Tsaddik mused) "O Thou Almighty who canst reinstate

Truths in their primal clarity, confused By man's perception, which is man's and made To suit his service,—how, once disabused

"Of reason which sees light half shine half shade, Because of flesh, the medium that adjusts  Purity to his visuals, both an aid

"And hindrance,—how to eyes earth's air encrusts, When purged and perfect to receive truth's beam Pouring itself on the new sense it trusts

"With all its plenitude of power,—how seem The intricacies now, of shade and shine, Oppugnant natures—Right and Wrong, we deem

"Irreconcilable? O eyes of mine, Freed now of imperfection, ye avail To see the whole sight, nor may uncombine

"Henceforth what, erst divided, caused you quail— So huge the chasm between the false and true, The dream and the reality! All hail,

"Day of my soul's deliverance—day the new, The never-ending! What though every shape Whereon I wreaked my yearning to pursue

"Even to success each semblance of escape From my own bounded self to some all-fair All-wise external fancy, proved a rape

"Like that old giant's, feigned of fools—on air,  Not solid flesh? How otherwise? To love— That lesson was to learn not here—but there—

"On earth, not here! 'Tis there we learn,—there prove Our parts upon the stuff we needs must spoil, Striving at mastery, there bend above

"The spoiled clay potsherds, many a year of toil Attests the potter tried his hand upon, Till sudden he arose, wiped free from soil

"His hand, cried 'So much for attempt—anon Performance! Taught to mould the living vase,  What matter the cracked pitchers dead and gone?'

"Could I impart and could thy mind embrace The secret, Tsaddik!" "Secret none to me!" Quoth Tsaddik, as the glory on the face

Of Jochanan was quenched. "The truth I see Of what that excellence of Judah wrote, Doughty Halaphta. This a case must be

"Wherein, though the last breath have passed the throat, So that 'The man is dead' we may pronounce, Yet is the Ruach—(thus do we denote

"The imparted Spirit)—in no haste to bounce From its entrusted Body,—some three days Lingers ere it relinquish to the pounce

"Of hawk-clawed Death his victim. Further says Halaphta, 'Instances have been, and yet Again may be, when saints, whose earthly ways

" 'Tend to perfection, very nearly get To heaven while still on earth: and, as a fine Interval shows where waters pure have met

" 'Waves brackish, in a mixture, sweet with brine,  That's neither sea nor river but a taste Of both—so meet the earthly and divine

" 'And each is either.' Thus I hold him graced— Dying on earth, half inside and half out, Wholly in heaven, who knows? My mind embraced

"Thy secret, Jochanan, how dare I doubt? Follow thy Ruach, let earth, all it can, Keep of the leavings!" Thus was brought about

The sepulture of Rabbi Jochanan: Thou hast him,—sinner-saint, live-dead, boy-man,— Schiphaz, on Bendimir, in Farzistan!

Note
This story can have no better authority than that of the treatise, existing dispersedly in fragments of Rabbinical writing, ברים משך של רבים, from which I might have helped myself more liberally. Thus, instead of the simple reference to "Moses' stick",—but what if I make amends by attempting three illustrations, when some thirty might be composed on the same subject, equally justifying that pithy proverb קם כמשה ממשה עד משה לא.

I

Moses the Meek was thirty cubits high, The staff he strode with—thirty cubits long; And when he leapt, so muscular and strong Was Moses that his leaping neared the sky By thirty cubits more: we learn thereby He reached full ninety cubits—am I wrong?— When, in a fight slurred o'er by sacred song, With staff outstretched he took a leap to try The just dimensions of the giant Og. And yet he barely touched—this marvel lacked Posterity to crown earth's catalogue Of marvels—barely touched—to be exact— The giant's ankle-bone, remained a frog That fain would match an ox in stature: fact!

II

And this same fact has met with unbelief! How saith a certain traveller? "Young, I chanced     To come upon an object—if thou canst, Guess me its name and nature! 'Twas, in brief, White, hard, round, hollow, of such length, in chief,      —And this is what especially enhanced My wonder—that it seemed, as i advanced, Never to end. Bind up within thy sheaf Of marvels, this—Posterity! I walked      From end to end,—four hours walked I, who go A goodly pace,—and found—I have not baulked      Thine expectation, Stranger? Ay or No? 'Twas but Og's thigh-bone, all the while. I stalked      Alongside of: respect to Moses, though!

III

Og's thigh-bone—if ye deem its measure strange, Myself can witness to much length of shank Even in birds. Upon a water's bank Once halting, I was minded to exchange Noon heat for cool. Quoth I, "On many a grange     I have seen storks perch—legs both long and lank:      Yon stork's must touch the bottom of this tank, Since on its top doth wet no plume derange Of the smooth breast. I'll bathe there!" "Do not so!" Warned me a voice from heaven. "A man let drop     His axe into that shallow rivulet— As thou accountest—seventy years ago: It fell and fell and still without a stop      Keeps falling, nor has reached the bottom yet."