Preludes 1921-1922 Part 1

Preludes 1921-1922.

by John Drinkwater.

PRELUDE

Though black the night, I know upon the sky, A little paler now, if clouds were none, The stars would be. Husht now the thickets lie, And now the birds are moving one by one,-- A note--and now from bush to bush it goes-- A prelude--now victorious light along The west will come till every bramble glows With wash of sunlit dew shaken in song.

Shaken in song; O heart, be ready now, Cold in your night, be ready now to sing.

Dawn as it wakes the sleeping bird on bough Shall summon you to instant reckoning,-- She is your dawn, O heart,--sing, till the night Of death shall come, the gospel of her light.

DAVID AND JONATHAN

And Jonathan too had honour in his heart, Jonathan who with an armour-bearer went Alone by Michmash to the Philistines, And met a spray of swords because of courage That made him single greater than a host.

Jonathan too had known his battles, dared At any hour the coming of death, because In twilight silence he had walked with G.o.d, Read Him in blossoms and the mountain brooks, And learnt that death, well known, can alter nothing.

He was a brown man, burnt with love of summer, His young beard curled, and russet as the eyes That looked on life, and feared it, yet were master, Because they knew the tyranny they feared, Measured it, learnt it, gazed it into nothing.

And now he watched the boy, the son of Jesse, David with hair like maples in October, And skin that women loving coveted, David with eyes that often by the sheepfolds Had looked through leaves up to the folds of heaven, And seeing them crammed with golden fleece of stars, Had known how the blood can run because of beauty.

Jonathan watched him take the armour off Given by Saul, and choose the bright smooth pebbles, And walk out from the Israelitish throng Into the field against the Philistine giant.

Watching, he s.n.a.t.c.hed his sword and cried to Saul, "Bid him come back. This murder must not be."

And as he spoke, he knew the words were treason, His heart alone in all the world was sure That David was the Lord's appointed arm, To meet this bulk of dirt, this giant fear Brandishing out of the loathly camps of evil.

And before Saul could answer, he put down The sword, and said, "I love him. Let him go."

But the words, I love him, were not for his father Saul, Hardly Jonathan knowing he spake them out.

But as he looked on David love was there, Waking from that in David that he himself A little was, and always greatly shaping Himself towards, so that his name was spoken Famously in Saul's kingdom. It was courage, The clean heart, undivided in its doing, The purpose that, being bodied in the brain, Thenceforth knew every trickling argument That fell from tongues of persuading circ.u.mstance, As lures of evil ever threatening life, That Jonathan loved above all enterprise.

He knew, or the rarer man within him knew, That once your yea in holy meditation Had shaped itself in the perfect syllable, Thenceforth no nay from any other tongue Or wise or pa.s.sionate or masterful, Could be listened to without the shame of sin Corrupting all your constancy for ever.

He knew the curse of good betraying good, Till both in bleak irresolution fall.

And all his years was Jonathan's anguish only To keep this tillage of his wisdom clean.

Since boyhood he had known Philistia For the black thing it was, a plague opposed Always against the loveliness of Israel, And when his father Saul was anointed king By Samuel in Ramah, then Jonathan knew How all the lessons of his youth had been To fit him for the striking of the men Who profaned beauty and let the soul be blind.

And he was diligent in bronze and arms, And kept his body supple, and his eye Keen, and the coming of his hooves was thunder, Wherever battle fell. He bore a flame, Zealous and pure, in the heavens of his mind, To serve and to instruct. Aye, to instruct-- There was the biting blemish, as we shall see.

Philistia was foul, and Jonathan knew, And the voice of G.o.d within him was plain and constant To strike and strike unwearying to the end.

And then the poor, precise, infirmity That loads good minds with ever seeming virtue, Until they cast their treasure to the dust, Crept on him, wound about the gleaming truth That was his one foundation. Day by day He was resolved, and then the grain of doubt Would come to hurt the riding of his thought, And break the level balance that it had.

Was then the Philistine mere black? That day Jonathan's arm half paused upon the blow, And evil went a little scatheless off.

Surely the worst even of adversaries Had somewhere beams that pointed to salvation, And hasty judgment might not be the will Of an all-seeing Lord? Then would the vengeance Falter, and stay, and Jonathan's battle failed.

And always then was bitterness and reproach In the night watches when upon his couch He looked on the stars studding his little window Before sleep came. Then he would speak again The word that single was his valiance, His only truth, his warrant as a man, And once again Philistia was doomed.

Then for a season clean the stroke and sure That Jonathan drove, and black was known for black, Till slowly as before would mount and mount Scruple on scruple, as was not he himself A little black sometimes, or plainly wicked?

And should the wicked man not be redeemed?

Merely destruction surely was no answer, Since yet the wickedness must wander somewhere?

How should he say, I, Jonathan of Israel Am good, and you the Philistine are cursed, Since in that face was something that had been Learnt from the buds and corn and frozen hills That he himself had known for seals of G.o.d?

And would not his power on Israel increase, Take on a loftier authority, If to his famous arms he could add a tale Of counsel working in the hearts of men, Moving them to a finer charity, A little pity for offence? And so Instruction like a worm was at his roots, And pride of virtue made Jonathan forget.

Then sometimes as he knew himself betrayed He would cry upon his spirit in the night--

I, Jonathan, who know The processes of G.o.d Moving within me, Turn aside to my idols of desire.

He has taught me the ways Of Philistine cruelty. He Shows me the bad man toiling to the ruin Of beauty and the free spirit on earth, And has equipped me for the establishment Of His will in this battle, and I fail.

I am a leaf spinning about the wind, Who have been shown the ways of stedfastness.

O Israel, I have heard My dedication made To your sweet service by the voice of Him, And I betray That wisdom, that great simpleness of wisdom, Inventing in my brain Fantastic argument As though G.o.d's mind Had missed the brighter pools That I alone could visit and gaze into.

He tells me, and I hear Voices not His.

Knowing, I question. And I am ashamed.

So Jonathan saw walking at his side Always a shadow that was his own denial.

And now was April mirrored in the plumes Of ravens and the green of the young wheat, And dusky ewes with white lambs in the sun Lay in the valley plain between the hosts Of Israel and Philistia. And on this day Jonathan learnt utter reproach, and love.

There on the plain Goliath stood alone, Poised in his mighty bulk, with black locks flowing, A handsbreadth taller even than Saul the king Who shouldered it above the men of Israel, And beat his words of sure defiance out, Ringing across the windless noon. And all Israel heard, and fear was on them, knowing, If thus the issue, how it should prevail.

And Jonathan in the tent of Saul his father, Watched, and his blood was quick, and in his mind He strove against the last of doubt. And then The young man David stood before them, bidden By Saul, who heard one say, "There is a boy New come from tending sheep in Bethlehem, And seeks the king." And David stood before them, And asked no leave, but said, "There was a cause.

It bade me come, and I will fight with him."

And Saul denied, but David did not hear Denial, saying, "the wild beasts of the field I with my hand have slain at the fold's gate, And this is mine to do." And David stood, Greater than argument while Saul armed him there.

And Jonathan saw the purpose that he was not, Glowing and bodied, and his love was born.

Then David flung the armour off, and said, "I am David, and I know not these strange arms.

I must go out as I have always been, Not girt with new occasion. It is I, David the shepherd that am David still, And I know nothing of your spears and plate.

A sheepskin have I worn, and in my hand A sling, and pebbles taken from the brook.

Now shall I go, content that G.o.d has watched me So habited and armed through all my youth.

Should I pretend another David now, I should meet this man with neither honour nor hope.

If I am sent against the Philistine Out of G.o.d's anger, and I know it is so, It is not one the chosen of Saul's hosts, But I, David of Bethlehem must go, The son of Jesse, and keeper of his flocks."

Almost the tears were seen in Jonathan's eyes, Because of David's words, of which he knew The poor ghosts hiding somewhere in his own heart.

And then he spoke his fear, and then the words, Resting his sword, "I love him. Let him go."

And David stept out of the emerald light That played up from the gra.s.s floor of the tent, Into the full flood of the April noon, And walked a little way, and those two stood Parted a hundred paces, the man of terror, Hewn ma.s.sy and with shock of builded limbs, And David moulded like a sea boy risen From caves of music where the water spins Wet sand into the shapes of flowing flowers; David with limbs all bright with the sun's tones, And ruddy locks curling with youth and light, His body all alert on steady loins, Clean spun of flesh that knew the winter snows, And mellow pools of summer, and the dews Dropping among the crocuses of dawn.

His sandle-straps bound ankles as a girl's, And fluttering to his knees the sheepskin hung, Cloaking one shoulder, while the other gleamed.

And there he paused, the sling in his right hand, His left hand fingering the pouch of pebbles, While Israel fearing murmured, and the hosts Of Philistine derision rocked the noon.

Then did Goliath cry, "Am I a dog, For a boy's whipping? Have you not a man, That you would send a cleaner up of crumbs From the queen's table? Come then, and be broken, For birds to find you and the dogs at night."

And Jonathan heard Philistia shout again, And David, like a flame unwinded, stood Quivering at the cry, and laid a stone In the sling's fold, and cast his staff, and ran, Fleet as the king bird gliding under leaves, Towards Goliath. And a giant spear Swung from the Philistine hand, and forty paces Sang in the air and brushed the flying sheepskin, And sudden David's feet were planted firm, Locked on the earth, and circling in the sun The tight thong flashed and loosened, and the stone Smote the Philistine wrath above the eyes, And the day was clouded from him, and he fell.

Then Israel spared not. And, when night was come, Jonathan sent for David to his tent, And those two sat while the yellow torches burned, And Jonathan spoke and said, "David, my brother, To-day you have made a story that shall be For ever fruitful in the heart of man.

This day is David's. But of this day I too Share, not in the honour, but in the harvesting, Or the harvesting I think is wholly mine.

Shall I speak on?" And David said, "Speak on."

Then Jonathan--"This morning there was a man, And it was Jonathan, who many years Had gone snared in a purpose not his own, That is, not truly mine. Always I knew, Walking by that self I said was honest, Another self, the true self, in a shadow, Or at an angle that my eyes refused.

I was a proud man, David, very virtuous, Or, in fairness to myself, desiring virtue, Truly desiring it, I may say that.

And yet even in that desire there moved A lie, for I knew the virtue of my desire Was something tainted. No--I knew it not, But that other self walking beside me knew it, And whispered, I knew, a thing that I would not hear.

Always it whispered, as I stood alone, I said, in subtle thought among all Israel.