Woman-Vigil
I
You that sleep not, Shadow moving at midnight,
To and fro, where the windows glimmer and darken,
To and fro, where you with your ailing treasure,
Lean down to harken:
You that sleep not, Shadow behind the casement,
Toilful Shadow, gaunt from the cup of sorrow;
Humble, ceaseless, shaping late in the midnight,
Bread of to-morrow!
You, wan Shadow, wasting your lighted taper, —
Light of your eyes, at a stitch-by-stitch adorning;
Starven starlight, paling even as stars do,
Toward the gray morning:
You that keep your watch by the countless windows,
Waking, working, there where they gleam and darken,
Even you that over the wide world's breathing,
Lean down and harken: —
Dark Immortal, — Shadow of mortal woman,
Why awake, when the sentries sleep, and the sages?
Towering Shadow, flung on the dark of night-time,
Dark of the ages?
( Loud from the tower
Swung the Bell.
And the sentry called,
" All's well!" ...
The candle flared
Before the night.
The Shadow trimmed the light .)
II
What new pride, you of the ceaseless vigil,
Knocks at your heart? Or what far folly of questing
Stirs you now, between the loom and the cradle? —
Woman unresting!
What vain-longing, — circle and cry of sea-birds,
Holds your eyes, with the sleepless light beside you?
All the besieging years, your toil and your burden,
Who hath denied you?
Who hath said to you, " Rest; yea, rest for your portion"?
Who forbade your eyes their watch or their weeping?
Who withheld the helpless years of the manchild
From your sole keeping?
Mind of the moon is yours; her song and her strangeness:
Singing, spinning, — even as her earth-born daughters
Spin, and sing; yet laying her strong commandment
Over the waters.
( The echoes died
Around the hour .
Back flew the doves ,
Back to the tower .
The house lay dark
In sleep, within .
The Shadow turned, to spin .)
III
Is it some new thirst, of a shining peril? —
Glorious Death, men sing as they go to greet him,
Far and far? — But turn you again to your shelter!
There shall you meet him;
Greet him, speak him fair, O hostess and handmaid!
Loitering hearthside guest, what pride should he kindle?
Face to face with your waiting smile, — and holding
Flax for the spindle!
Not for men's red harvest, weariless Woman?
Spoils of empire? Triumph of shuddering wonder? —
You, who fought with vultures over your treasure,
Yea, for such plunder!
You who shore your hair by the walls of Carthage! —
Gave your haloing hair, but to arm the bowmen, —
Smiting white through that long-spent storm of arrows,
Lightnings of omen!
( One by one ,
The stars went by;
The Shadow harkened
For a cry.
The sentry went,
Whose watch was done.
... The Shadow spun .)
IV
Not yet spent, with the night of that endless travail? —
Sons of men, slaying the sons of mothers!
Not yet spent? For all shed life of your giving?
Yours, not another's.
Who but you, to spin of your breath with beauty?
Pluck the light of the stars you fight in their courses? —
Light, for the morning-gaze of the torn young eyelids,
Trampled of horses!
Who but you, — to bear the bloom and the burden;
Breath and death, and doom of the world, for your share?
Breath for men, and men that shall die tomorrow; —
Glory of warfare!
Breath for men; bodies for men, — for women;
Women to breathe and bloom, and bring forth in sorrow
Men, — men, to nurture and rear as worship;
Men for to-morrow!
(The tide ebbed ;
The tide turned;
The wind died;
The taper burned.
The cock crew
That night was done.
... The Shadow spun .)
V
Shadow, Shadow, all the late voices urge thee
Leave thy vigil now for a noon of slumber,
Surely mayst thou shut from thy mothering eyelids
Griefs without number!
Where the covering darkness lifts from the housetops,
Baring stark those wretched beyond their telling, —
Count not thou their wants and their wounds! — nay, go not
Forth of thy dwelling.
What wilt thou see? — The thousand shames and hungers;
Old despairs, clinging thy thousand pities!
What wilt thou hear? — Save who must faint and famish,
Through all thy cities?
The morning-stars
Were laughing all.
The Shadow heard them call.
The darkness called her by her name.
The Shadow rose and came.
There were the early stars astir,
And one and all they laughed at her.
O sisterwise they sung to her;;
Old songs, old words they flung to her,
She knew again, again:
The olden laughter of a star,
From long ago, and far and far!
But all their music and their mirth
Fell, as the little words of earth,
Unto an old refrain: —
Silver laughter and golden scorn,
Across the soothsay of gray morn,
With the smiting of sweet rain.
VI
" Spin — spin! Thou who wert made for spinning!
We are but stars that fade. Thou, thou art human.
Thou, the spinner, — yea, from the far beginning,
Made to be Woman.
" Come, come forth, — unto the uttermost borders;
Forth, where the old despairs and shames implore thee,
Forth of thy small shut house, — where thy dominions
Widen before thee.
" Spin, — spin! Lift up thy radiant distaff:
Spinner thou art, — yea, from the dim beginning,
Life and the web of all life, and the hosts and their glory; —
Thine was the spinning!
" Spin, — spin! while that the Three were spinning,
Thou behind them gavest their flax, O Mother;
Thou, the spinner and spun, and the thread that was severed; —
Thou, not another.
" Spin, — spin! Lift up thy heart with thy spinning;
Look and behold it, shading thine eyes from our laughter; —
Life and the glory of Life and the hosts of the living,
Here and hereafter!
" Fear not, fail not! Let not thy lowliness draw thee
Back to thy small shut house, O thou too lowly!
Here, in thy shrining hands the web of thy glory,
Blinding and holy.
" Never thine own; not for thy poor possession, —
Locked in darkness, spent with a dim endeavor; —
Life and the web of All Life, and the hosts of the living,
Now and forever.
" Rise, come with the sun to the chorusing vineyards!
We are but stars, that fade. And thou art human.
Put on thy beautiful garments, O thou Beloved,
Thou who art Woman.
" Rise, come! Blow out thy tremulous rush-light;
Come, where the golden tides give cry of warning.
Over the dark, flooding the world with wonder,
Flows the first morning!
" Rise, come! Known at last of the nations; —
Even of this dim world thou hadst in thy keeping. —
Thou sole sentinel over the dark of the ages! —
Love, the unsleeping."
You that sleep not, Shadow moving at midnight,
To and fro, where the windows glimmer and darken,
To and fro, where you with your ailing treasure,
Lean down to harken:
You that sleep not, Shadow behind the casement,
Toilful Shadow, gaunt from the cup of sorrow;
Humble, ceaseless, shaping late in the midnight,
Bread of to-morrow!
You, wan Shadow, wasting your lighted taper, —
Light of your eyes, at a stitch-by-stitch adorning;
Starven starlight, paling even as stars do,
Toward the gray morning:
You that keep your watch by the countless windows,
Waking, working, there where they gleam and darken,
Even you that over the wide world's breathing,
Lean down and harken: —
Dark Immortal, — Shadow of mortal woman,
Why awake, when the sentries sleep, and the sages?
Towering Shadow, flung on the dark of night-time,
Dark of the ages?
( Loud from the tower
Swung the Bell.
And the sentry called,
" All's well!" ...
The candle flared
Before the night.
The Shadow trimmed the light .)
II
What new pride, you of the ceaseless vigil,
Knocks at your heart? Or what far folly of questing
Stirs you now, between the loom and the cradle? —
Woman unresting!
What vain-longing, — circle and cry of sea-birds,
Holds your eyes, with the sleepless light beside you?
All the besieging years, your toil and your burden,
Who hath denied you?
Who hath said to you, " Rest; yea, rest for your portion"?
Who forbade your eyes their watch or their weeping?
Who withheld the helpless years of the manchild
From your sole keeping?
Mind of the moon is yours; her song and her strangeness:
Singing, spinning, — even as her earth-born daughters
Spin, and sing; yet laying her strong commandment
Over the waters.
( The echoes died
Around the hour .
Back flew the doves ,
Back to the tower .
The house lay dark
In sleep, within .
The Shadow turned, to spin .)
III
Is it some new thirst, of a shining peril? —
Glorious Death, men sing as they go to greet him,
Far and far? — But turn you again to your shelter!
There shall you meet him;
Greet him, speak him fair, O hostess and handmaid!
Loitering hearthside guest, what pride should he kindle?
Face to face with your waiting smile, — and holding
Flax for the spindle!
Not for men's red harvest, weariless Woman?
Spoils of empire? Triumph of shuddering wonder? —
You, who fought with vultures over your treasure,
Yea, for such plunder!
You who shore your hair by the walls of Carthage! —
Gave your haloing hair, but to arm the bowmen, —
Smiting white through that long-spent storm of arrows,
Lightnings of omen!
( One by one ,
The stars went by;
The Shadow harkened
For a cry.
The sentry went,
Whose watch was done.
... The Shadow spun .)
IV
Not yet spent, with the night of that endless travail? —
Sons of men, slaying the sons of mothers!
Not yet spent? For all shed life of your giving?
Yours, not another's.
Who but you, to spin of your breath with beauty?
Pluck the light of the stars you fight in their courses? —
Light, for the morning-gaze of the torn young eyelids,
Trampled of horses!
Who but you, — to bear the bloom and the burden;
Breath and death, and doom of the world, for your share?
Breath for men, and men that shall die tomorrow; —
Glory of warfare!
Breath for men; bodies for men, — for women;
Women to breathe and bloom, and bring forth in sorrow
Men, — men, to nurture and rear as worship;
Men for to-morrow!
(The tide ebbed ;
The tide turned;
The wind died;
The taper burned.
The cock crew
That night was done.
... The Shadow spun .)
V
Shadow, Shadow, all the late voices urge thee
Leave thy vigil now for a noon of slumber,
Surely mayst thou shut from thy mothering eyelids
Griefs without number!
Where the covering darkness lifts from the housetops,
Baring stark those wretched beyond their telling, —
Count not thou their wants and their wounds! — nay, go not
Forth of thy dwelling.
What wilt thou see? — The thousand shames and hungers;
Old despairs, clinging thy thousand pities!
What wilt thou hear? — Save who must faint and famish,
Through all thy cities?
The morning-stars
Were laughing all.
The Shadow heard them call.
The darkness called her by her name.
The Shadow rose and came.
There were the early stars astir,
And one and all they laughed at her.
O sisterwise they sung to her;;
Old songs, old words they flung to her,
She knew again, again:
The olden laughter of a star,
From long ago, and far and far!
But all their music and their mirth
Fell, as the little words of earth,
Unto an old refrain: —
Silver laughter and golden scorn,
Across the soothsay of gray morn,
With the smiting of sweet rain.
VI
" Spin — spin! Thou who wert made for spinning!
We are but stars that fade. Thou, thou art human.
Thou, the spinner, — yea, from the far beginning,
Made to be Woman.
" Come, come forth, — unto the uttermost borders;
Forth, where the old despairs and shames implore thee,
Forth of thy small shut house, — where thy dominions
Widen before thee.
" Spin, — spin! Lift up thy radiant distaff:
Spinner thou art, — yea, from the dim beginning,
Life and the web of all life, and the hosts and their glory; —
Thine was the spinning!
" Spin, — spin! while that the Three were spinning,
Thou behind them gavest their flax, O Mother;
Thou, the spinner and spun, and the thread that was severed; —
Thou, not another.
" Spin, — spin! Lift up thy heart with thy spinning;
Look and behold it, shading thine eyes from our laughter; —
Life and the glory of Life and the hosts of the living,
Here and hereafter!
" Fear not, fail not! Let not thy lowliness draw thee
Back to thy small shut house, O thou too lowly!
Here, in thy shrining hands the web of thy glory,
Blinding and holy.
" Never thine own; not for thy poor possession, —
Locked in darkness, spent with a dim endeavor; —
Life and the web of All Life, and the hosts of the living,
Now and forever.
" Rise, come with the sun to the chorusing vineyards!
We are but stars, that fade. And thou art human.
Put on thy beautiful garments, O thou Beloved,
Thou who art Woman.
" Rise, come! Blow out thy tremulous rush-light;
Come, where the golden tides give cry of warning.
Over the dark, flooding the world with wonder,
Flows the first morning!
" Rise, come! Known at last of the nations; —
Even of this dim world thou hadst in thy keeping. —
Thou sole sentinel over the dark of the ages! —
Love, the unsleeping."
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