Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE LAST SOUL, by CATULLE MENDES


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE LAST SOUL, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The heaven was void of gods and, altarless
Last Line: And, as departing incense, soared to god.
Subject(s): Fear; Heaven; Soul; Youth; Paradise


THE heaven was void of gods and, altarless,
The cold earth kept its dead; no sleeper woke.
Reft of his ancient dreams, Man bore the yoke
Of everlasting fear and weariness.

The jackal crouched beside the tomb of stone,
Where slept with folded hands the patriarch's form,
Whose fingers' marble grace, worn by the storm,
Crumbling forgot the prayer 'mid spectres lone.

None could recall the zealot's "I believe!"
Age-old oblivion lay o'er all divine.
In marts were hung the dripping flanks of swine
From crosses red, whose sign none could perceive.

The unlighted sun that roamed through pitchy space
Was spent with kindling feeble destinies. . . .
One from afar said: "Flee this last abyss!
Where I was born a shrine still lifts its face.

"Ancient of days it stands, a witness hoar,
Begirt with rubble, climbing weeds and shards.
Falling in pride, its dying glory guards
The memory of a god men know no more!"

Then I shook off the dust of impious towns
And fled the hearts bereft of hope and love,
Whom neither fear nor fortitude could move,
With calm like his who in his dreaming drowns.

Days hurried by like hawks, the while I passed
Parched river beds, whose cindered banks were piled
With cities dead and palaces defiled
In solitude, sought only by the blast.

Far from my youth that spurred my going forth,
With faltering steps I found the shrine's demesne;
The snows of age about my temples lean
Whenas I climbed the wondrous ruin's swarth.

Torn, breathless, spent, yet radiant 'neath the rod,
The altar lit my liquefying eye.
My soul exhaled in one ecstatic cry
And, as departing incense, soared to God.





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