Not Yet
In days long, long ago, when a divine unrest
Was surging like a sea in Europe's mighty breast,
And the fierce Hermit's voice proclaimed the dear Lord's will,
And drove the nations forth to strike and strive and kill,
If haply they might win from Saracenic horde
The tomb and precious dust of their most precious Lord, —
As the Crusaders marched upon their weary way,
Never was seen, I trow, a motlier disarray;
Baron and serf, and dames all beautiful and bright,
And women who had strayed far out into the night;
And little children too, on mothers' aching breasts,
That heaved with many a sigh for their deserted nests;
And as they toiled along, and came from place to place,
Now to some little town or hamlet void of grace,
The little children asked of those that carried them
In ever sadder tones, " Is this Jerusalem? "
And ever and again, with more and more regret,
Heard the disheartening words, " Not yet, my child, not yet. "
" Not yet, my child, not yet, " I hear the Father say
To the Crusader true, of this our land and day;
" For many a weary league thy feet have yet to tread
Ere through the City's gates thou art in triumph led.
" Thou dost not know how high its gleaming spires arise,
If with these village roofs thou canst content thine eyes.
" Thou dost not guess how wide is every shining street,
If here thou think'st to find fit passage for thy feet.
" Thou hast not dreamed a dream of men supremely strong,
Of women sweeter far than poet's sweetest song,
" If with these rustic boors thou canst be pleased to dwell,
And with these damsels rude believe that all is well.
" Rest in no triumph won: the best is yet to be,
Not yet from half its woe is the great world set free.
" The victory of to-day, that seems so passing bright,
Is but a hamlet rude where thou shalt rest to-night.
" To-morrow up and on; but not with hope to see,
Ere night shall come again, the City rise on thee.
" Far off, far off it lies, 'neath the horizon's rim:
Enough for thee to know, I see Jerusalem!
" Thou hast done well thy part, if thou hast done thy best:
As sure as I am God, I answer for the rest. "
Was surging like a sea in Europe's mighty breast,
And the fierce Hermit's voice proclaimed the dear Lord's will,
And drove the nations forth to strike and strive and kill,
If haply they might win from Saracenic horde
The tomb and precious dust of their most precious Lord, —
As the Crusaders marched upon their weary way,
Never was seen, I trow, a motlier disarray;
Baron and serf, and dames all beautiful and bright,
And women who had strayed far out into the night;
And little children too, on mothers' aching breasts,
That heaved with many a sigh for their deserted nests;
And as they toiled along, and came from place to place,
Now to some little town or hamlet void of grace,
The little children asked of those that carried them
In ever sadder tones, " Is this Jerusalem? "
And ever and again, with more and more regret,
Heard the disheartening words, " Not yet, my child, not yet. "
" Not yet, my child, not yet, " I hear the Father say
To the Crusader true, of this our land and day;
" For many a weary league thy feet have yet to tread
Ere through the City's gates thou art in triumph led.
" Thou dost not know how high its gleaming spires arise,
If with these village roofs thou canst content thine eyes.
" Thou dost not guess how wide is every shining street,
If here thou think'st to find fit passage for thy feet.
" Thou hast not dreamed a dream of men supremely strong,
Of women sweeter far than poet's sweetest song,
" If with these rustic boors thou canst be pleased to dwell,
And with these damsels rude believe that all is well.
" Rest in no triumph won: the best is yet to be,
Not yet from half its woe is the great world set free.
" The victory of to-day, that seems so passing bright,
Is but a hamlet rude where thou shalt rest to-night.
" To-morrow up and on; but not with hope to see,
Ere night shall come again, the City rise on thee.
" Far off, far off it lies, 'neath the horizon's rim:
Enough for thee to know, I see Jerusalem!
" Thou hast done well thy part, if thou hast done thy best:
As sure as I am God, I answer for the rest. "
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