Classic Poem

I

I have looked inward and seen the world;
I have looked out upon the world
And shuddered
To behold myself.

II

Through the antres of my brain
A loud wind rushed,
And it was black with witches
Shrieking in pursuit of ... me.

III

In a hilly place,
In a bleak place among the hills,
In an old scarred country
Deep within my skull
I came upon a cairn ...
Warily I went,
Breathlessly I withdrew;
I did not dare to wake the dead thought buried there!

IV

There was a locked door
And I burst it open;
There was a strong gate
That kept me from a house
Built between the hills: —
A great house
Hanging above a canyon
In my brain,
Swaying as the thunderous pulses
Beat; —
I smashed the gate
And entered a hall of shadows;
Out of the twilight,
Out of the palpitant dusk
Two came to meet me:
My Father and my Son ...
And they were I,
And I was both of them; —
There was a little cell
And I broke down the door.

V

Prometheus,
Prometheus hanging upon Caucasus,
Look at the visage
Of yonder vulture:
Is it not thy face,
Prometheus?

VI

There was a cry from the darkness.
It is some beast, I said;
It is not human,
It has nothing to do with me ...
It is not human ...
But suddenly
Without my volition
There leapt out of my throat
An answering cry,
And the thing out there in the darkness
Gave tongue once more.
These cries are not human! I said:
They have all too much to do with me,
They are not human —
Why should my blood remember
The jungles and caverns
And the red beasts
That my brain forgets?

VII

Narcissus,
Did you think that love or life or death
Could show to Narcissus
Anything but Narcissus?
— We are each of us Brahma,
And Brahma is all of us.

VIII

I rose ... I rose ...
The wild raptures
And the beating wings of song
Were mine,
The sun,
The climbing flight
And the great fellowship of the stars ...
I rose ... I rose ...
And when I was wearied
A cricket on a grass blade
Far above me piped:
Come up! Higher! Come up! Up!
Up here with Apollo and me!

IX

Pray to the gods,
For the gods are not
Unless we pray to them!

X

In a dream
I stood upon Olympus
And mocked Zeus ...
He poised a bolt ...
Do not fling the lightning,
Zeus , I said,
For if I should awake
From this dream
There would not be any Zeus!

XI

I was the avenger;
Hotly I chased my quarry
Through the thickets;
At the blind end of a ravine
The brute rocks penned him
And flung him back to me,
And with a sniffling sob
And writhen arms lifted to cover his face
He stood shaking,
Waiting the death he dared not envisage.
Into his sick entrails
I drove the broad blade ...
And when he fell
I saw the upturned face;
It was mine own ...
I was the avenger ...

XII

The Biologist seeks God in a cell;
The Mathematician tries to find Him by way of the Fourth Dimension;
The Philosopher searches with a formula;
The Artist strives to create Him in his own image —
Blessed are the ignorant
Who do not know how to shut the gods out
With walls of learning!