He Had Lived Long

He had lived long He had lived long By his calculations By his inclinations He had lived long ii. For in his hand He had the key That he had found To Immortality As the fire Prometheus Found so he Had been the first to Calculate Immortality iii. How worked he On it! As a dream Subconsciously The years passed by Year after year. iv. Tired and bent With work he grew Tired and bent With work he grew And tired thus Planned calculated To cease his work Suspend Immortality v. He had begun with life Itself In his works that was First And key after key To doors all locked He found before That with such keys He could unlock Door after door vi. Bare before him Lay life its Principles Before Those in it saw mysteries Now saw mechanics and A methodology A way of work to add to And increase And engineer and mend Where mending should Before him lay He worked all day He thought all day Of Immortality But he had not Reached Immortality As yet Though the first cry The first flame Had lit. As yet, as yet. How strong he was In muscles ran In flower of youth And yet again Even in middle age He ran and ran As he matured His strength decreased not As he matured to middle age His brain shone more More brilliant than In youth shone it. And as a crown Of an emperor Of empery with jewels Full dense one by one Dense one on one Shone the crown How ravishing! As in a blaze He trailed the skies As in a blaze The heavens trailed he But with all this Older he grew Yet he had not found Nor completed he His work on immortality Of life’s delights He wary grew Lost appetite And misery Around him Began to grow So drew back he He slowed his work That was at first Then more and more Slowed he Then came the point The time he ceased To work and work On Immortality Ah! how his heart Ached sad and weary! How his heart mourned Funereal in look was he The years of youth And further back Of middle age had flown And lone was he. he grew and grew obese and fat yet had not lost his brilliancy his brain still worked as a machine as was when young was he. and in his heart he mourned and mourned though other work from all civilization he still he produced he had abandoned his immortality. Ah when Prometheus Punished was By angry deities For stealing fire And this all this Not keep for him But give humanity! So was our man, so he! Self-Immolated for All Self Immolated for the Rest Self-Immolated for Humanity No human recognized His work and this Gave him pain More than all things More Than all pain More than all suffering Of Prometheus he. He suffered, humanity smiled And laughed Turned on the wheel of A drear life But carried on From father to son Generation to generation And fatherless was he! Prometheus paled to see How soft his punishment Compared to this. From left to right In walking he He swung as in a reverie Of the sub-conscious he And in his face a drear A paleness grew At his fatherless ness And of all years that flew Of age and loss of strength He had so much in youth He swung as in a reverie. As in a horrid dream In horrid nights all wintry He walked as confused And night on night Night after night More horrid were, more Drear, more sad, more Heart that broke Was he. In to this misery He still toiled on But lost appetite to toil For Immortality Though still on his lips He said he stuttered ‘Ah! Immortality! ’ And his hand trembling Wrote as yet Of immortality. A flame he set A flame lighted he A flame to Immortality He had set the tune Yet humanity danced not With broken eyes With broken heart Looked he. As Hus and Wycliffe lit Their flame so he: Yet in his flame All union was All union for humanity And full enjoyment Of immortality! With what he made From all his toil He had reaped misery: And an immortality He lit but enjoyed not Towards the graves Towards the tombs To roam he started In to cemeteries. For in the while His father lost Then years after All this pain His mother lost And all alone He suffered misery. Of night, of day, count Lost he But just continued to Toil and toil continued he! And of the stars he had To look on summer nights At least yet failed And in the winter blasts Till midnight working he In a small light He racked his brain And made a summit Of all his misery! To lose! To lose You Loser be! Shouted Voices that Hounded him Clamored Voices that Haunted him: And in a little break He had - from time To time - his house He paced lone and solitary In pain, in misery! And at long length The Voices round Those Voices cruel To grow begin: He saw his end He wished the end And saw the end begin. The end! That was a phrase That was a word Contrary to Immortality! He that had lit the flame Of Immortality Had come and cornered been To all this misery? But ah! alas! so the tale Goes So calculated he. Yet in all this he Still held to him, his Heart the cross of pain The cross of suffering For Immortality. For it still yearned Of it still loved Still though in such a Misery. His heart it ached Ached more than human Could ache His heart grew sick His heart grew weak And the strong breath The strong breathing He had before Grew weak. To night, to night One night he heard Distinct whispering A Voice first, Voices Then, one after one, He heard, he felt and Heard again, again. ‘Come with me! Come! ’ Said a Shroud a Figure Thin airy and tout: ‘Come with me come My son, I pity you, And pain with you, Suffer with you.’ Around he turned The echoes heard Dear to him he Recognized his mother’s Voice so long She had spoke long to him! Her eyes were closed Her coffin made And she lay straight And she moved not. Around, around He turned and said ‘My Mother! ’ then He choked no more Of words would say: But in his brain Thoughts flooded in And all his brain His mother read All, all within. Her words had been Just a few words: But in the cup of misery He gathered them To him a balm He closed his eyes His throat was parched. But at long last He had found words ; I come! ’ he said ‘My mother dear! To your side I’ He spoke not more For inside him He felt a joy, a Sweetness not seen before Not held before And his Soul, he His Inner Soul he felt A joy, redemption felt And as with wings from Earth in levitation His flesh weary had fallen And his way up Up to the heaven Now had begun. Alone, alone, with his Hand in his mother’s He to the high heavens Ascended he The heavens smiled The clouds of fleece All white all opened Had: And in his soul His aching soul He felt a joy a remedy A justice due and to be done For all his misery. Sweet sounds heard he Music of thousands of Violins; and Voices Sweet whispered around Discernible yet without sound He looked around He saw, he felt, His chains experienced All falling down As light as joy And light as light Was he And received he In a Heaven of Light Wise, brilliant, civilized And on a throne near His mother sate he. A tale! A tale you see My Monsignor! A reverie! It asserted was so It all asserted be. The tale is closed My Monsignor. The tale Is closed, the book is Done, the chapters writ, The tale is closed.