CUERVO - Biblioteca Nacional de Colombia

104 PARACELSUS
And my dim chamber has become a tent,
Festus is sitting by me, and his Michal . . .
Why do you start? I say, she listening here,
(For yonder's \Viirzburg through the orchard-boughs)
Motions as though such ardent words should find
No echo in a maiden's quiet soul,
But her pure bosom heaves, her eyes fill fast
With tears, her sweet lips tremble all the while I
Ha, ha I
Festus. It seems, then, you expect to reap
No unreal joy from this your present course,
But rather ...
Paracelsus. Death I To die I lowe that much
To what, at least, I was. I should be sad
To live contented after such a fall-
To thrive and fatten after such reverse I
The whole plan is a makeshift, but will last
:\ly time.
Feslus. And you have never mused and said,
" I had a noble purpose, and full strength
" To compass it; but I have stopped half-way,
" r'...nd wrongly give the first fruits of my toil
" To objects little worthy of the gift :
,. Why linger round them still? why clench my fault ?
" Why seek for consolation in defeat-
" In vain endeavours to derive a beauty
" From ugliness? \Vhy seek to make the most
" Of what no power can change, nor strive instead
" With mighty elIort to redeem the past,
" And, gathering up the treasures thus cast down,
" To hold a steadfast course till I arrive
" At their fit destination, and my own? "
You have never pondered thus?
Paracelsus. Have I, you ask?
Often at midnight, when most fancies come,
Would some such airy project visit me :
But ever at the end . . . or will you hear
The same thing in a tale, a parable?
It cannot prove more tedious; listen then 1
You and I, wandering over the world wide,
Chance to set foot upon a desert coast:
Just as we cry, " No human voice before
Broke the inveterate silence of these rocks I "
-Their querulous echo startles us; we turn:
\Vhal ravaged structure still looks o'er the sea?
Some characters remain, too 1 While we read,
The sharp, salt wind, impatient for the last
Of even this record, wistfully comes and goes,
Or sings what we recover, mocking it.
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