Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ANAESTHETICS, by MARCUS S. C. RICKARDS


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ANAESTHETICS, by                    
First Line: I dreamt I saw a healer stand
Last Line: "upsteals the saintly moon!"
Subject(s): Dreams; Grief; Soul; Time; Youth; Nightmares; Sorrow; Sadness


I DREAMT I saw a Healer stand,
A medicine phial in his hand,
O'er one who at his stern command
Drained it and ceased to groan.
I woke and pondered, and the truth
Flashed on me that the direst ruth
Of weary Age, and fevered Youth,
Scarce justifies our moan.

Soul-sick and spirit-bound we lie;
Unvisited we fade and die;
The healing draught is mixed, and I
Now marvel that men shrink:
Take it they must -- the glass we drain;
Behold it in the care, the pain,
The loss, that haunt us! and we fain
Would push aside, nor drink.

But lo! the opium God instils,
The anodyne for sharpest ills;
They steep each potion that He fills
From His Dispensary:
The shadowing cares due solace bring;
Pain dreaded scarce unsheathes its sting;
And ah! how quickly hearts uncling
That vowed forlorn to die.

Between the soul, and all that grieves,
A silent sea, upwashing, heaves
A wave impassable, that leaves
Them impotent to touch.
We think that somewhat dear must stay,
Or vital being would decay:
Time strips it off, it falls away,
Nor feel we overmuch.

Fain would we lash our hearts to woe;
We chide the tears that will not flow,
Or stanch too soon, we think -- but no!
Due gall is in the cup:
Why deepen or prolong Grief's spell?
He mingles the ingredients well;
Not ours to languish or rebel,
But meekly drink it up.

Ye hopeless ones fear not to quaff!
Mid earth-born showers Heaven's Rainbows laugh.
"Resurgam" smiles as epitaph
O'er every buried boon.
"In rarer form, in purer guise,
Again in some dark hour I rise
To bless thee, as thro' midnight skies
Upsteals the saintly Moon!"





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