No More Learning

He saw these worlds all marshalled,
And their ways all governed for ever;
And he felt the sight of his soul
Shrivel up like a fire-licked scroll
In his insupportable terror.

Then the Spirit pointed again,
And wheeled the might of his horses
And shouted . . . and down they fell,
As a pebble drops in a well,
Thro' the worlds and the roar of their courses.

And the Dreamer looked, and behold!
In a point to aeons withdrawn. . . .
A scarce visible speck of light,
His own sun like a mite,
And the blur of his own little dawn.


II

Now the Dreamer, who rode by night
In the car of the Spirit thro' space,
Came in the blue of June morning,
In a mood betwixt pity and scorning,
To the populous market-place.

Afar in the infinite blue
Hung the snow-capped mountain-ranges;
But round him moved the press
Of the city's business
In kaleidoscopic changes.

For the square was all life and all colour,
All confusion and clamour,
As dealers showed the paces
Of colts, untamed in the traces,
To the rap of the auctioneer's hammer.

He saw there the dusty sheep
Trotting blindly amidst the throng;
The swine with quivering snouts,
The boys who urged them with shouts,
The hawkers of picture and song;

The brown-skinned peasants trudging
By their slow-paced bullock wains,
With children asprawl the load,
And wives who scolded and rode
With an eye to their husbands' gains;

The hooknosed Orient merchants,
Who came in the caravans
And bargained over the prices
Of silks and carpets and spices,
Pearls and feathers and fans;

The clumsy sailors in ear-rings
From the echoing harbour beach,
With parrots and shells for their wares,
The light of the sun in their stares,
The sound of the wind in their speech.
And the shrill-voiced changers of money
Who sat with their clerks at the tables. . . .
And it seemed to him all no matter
As he gazed . . . like the evening chatter
Of starlings under his gables.


III

And lo! hard by at a pillar
Two learned Sophists disputed,
Taking the turn of speech
And disciples applauded each
Or else each other confuted

With babble and clenching of fist,
And thrusting of face into face,
And saying "Demus hath reason"
Or "Lycas hath conquered. The season
Of Demus hath passed, and his place

"Is with us no longer. " And mildly
The grave-eyed Dreamer watched them
Shouting and seething and ranting.
But, when they perceived him, panting
(For a sudden impulse snatched them)

Ran up a crowd of both factions
And cried, "Oh! Master, befriend us,
For we all of us know thou art wisest,
That thou speakest the truth and despisest
No man and his need. Therefore lend us

"Thy wisdom in this our dilemma. "
And the Dreamer answered, "I hear.