Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MOTHERHOOD, by WILLIAM SHARP Poet's Biography First Line: Beneath the awful full-orb'd moon Last Line: Around the world, and link these three again. Alternate Author Name(s): Macleod, Fiona Subject(s): Birth; Love; Mothers; Silence; Sin; Child Birth; Midwifery | ||||||||
Beneath the awful full-orb'd moon The silent tracts of wild-rice lay Dumb since the fervid heat of noon Beat through the burning Indian day; And still as some far tropic sea Where no winds murmur, no waves be. The bending seeded tops alone Swayed in the sleepy sultry wind, Which came and went with frequent moan As though some dying place to find; While at sharp intervals there rang The fierce cicala's piercing clang. Deep 'mid the rice-field's green-hued gloom A tigress lay with birth-throes ta'en; Her serpent tail swept o'er her womb As if to sweep away the pain That clutched her by the gold-barred thighs And shook her throat with snarling cries. Her white teeth tore the wild-rice stems; And as she moaned her green eyes grew Lurid like shining baleful gems With fires volcanic lighten'd through, While froth fell from her churning jaws Upon her skin-drawn gleaming claws. As in a dream at some strange sound The soul doth seem to freeze, so she Lay fixed like marble on the ground, Changed in a moment: suddenly, A far-off roar of savage might Boomed through the silent sultry night. Her eyes grew large and flamed with fire; Her body seem'd to feel the sound And thrill therewith, as thrills a lyre When wild wind wakes it with a bound And sweeps its string-clasp'd soul along In waves of melancholy song. Her answering howl swept back again And eddied to her far mate's ear; Then once again the travail-pain Beat at the heart that knew no fear, But some new instinct seem'd to rise And yearn and wonder in her eyes. Did presage of the coming birth Light up her life with mother-love, As winds along the morning earth Whisper of golden dawn above? Or was it but some sweet wild thought Remember'd vaguely ere forgot? Some sweet wild thought of that still night When underneath the low-lying moon, Vast, awful, in its splendour white, Two tigers fought for love's last boon: Two striped and fire-eyed terrors strove Through blood and foam to reach her love. Of how their fight so deathly still Fill'd all her heart with savage glee; The lust to love, to slay, to kill, -- The fierce desire with him to be Whose fangs all bloody from the fray Should turn triumphantly away: Of how at last with one wild cry One gript the other's throat and breath, And, with hell gleaming thro' each eye, Shook the wild life to loveless death; Then stood with waving tail and ire Triumphant changed to swift desire? But once again the bitter strife Of wrestling sinews shook her there; And soon a little mewling life Met her bewilder'd yearning stare, Till, through her pain, the tigress strove With licking tongue her love to prove. No longer fearless flamed the light Of great green eyes straight thro' the gloom, Each nerve seem'd laden with affright, The eyes expectant of some doom; The very moonlight's steady glare Beat hungrily about her lair. A beetle rose, and hummed, and hung A moment ere it fled -- but great In face of peril to her young The tigress rose supreme in hate And, with tail switching and lips drawn, The unreal foe scowled out upon. And when a mighty cobra, coiled Amid the tangled grass-roots near, Hissed out his hunger, her blood boiled With rage that left no room for fear, Till, with a howl that shook the dark, She sprang and left him cold and stark. But when a feeble hungry wail Smote on her yearning ears she turn'd With velvet paws and refluent tail And eyes that no more flashed and burn'd But flamed throughout the solemn night Like lamps of soft sweet yellow light To where her young was; where she lay Silent, and full of some strange love Long hours. Along the star-strewn way A comet flashed and flamed above, And where great wastes of solemn blue Spread starless sailed the vast moon through, No sound distrub'd the tigress, save Stray jackals, or some wild boar's pant Where thickest did the tall rice wave, Or trump of distant elephant; Or, when these fill'd the night no more, The tiger's deep tremendous roar. II Vast, solitary, gloomful, dark, Primeval forests swept away To where the gum and stringy bark Against great granite mountains lay; And through their depths the twilight stole And dusk'd still deeper each dark bole. Deep in their pathless tracks there reared A huge white gum, whose giant height When winds infrequent blew appeared To brush the stars out from the night: A mighty column, straight and vast, Solemn with immemorial past: And at its base upon a bed Of fern-tree leaves strewn o'er the ground A woman lay as though lying dead -- Dark, rigid still, without one sound: Her fixed eyes lifted not, nor saw The great stars tremble in strange awe. Crouch'd near upon the tufted grass Two wither'd, long-haired women bent Two dusky bodies. No sign was Made ever them between, nor went From swift, slant, startled eyes a glance To break the spell of their deep trance. They crouch'd with heads bent down between Thin, black uprisen knees; their hair Hid their dark faces like a screen, And, scored with thorns, their feet lay bare: Hour after hour had watched them so, Three shadows fixt in sphinx-like woe. At times some wandering parrot's voice Clanged through the dusk; from dead trees nigh A locust whirred its deafening noise And shrilled th' opossum's frequent cry: And hour by hour some slim snake stole Hissing from fallen rotting bole. At last, above the farthest range The full vast moon sail'd o'er the trees: The dead-like woman felt some change Thrill thro' her body; from her knees Each shadow-watcher raised her head, And stared with eyes of moveless dread. Beyond -- within the ghastly shade Of time-forgotten-gums aglow With phosphorescent light that made Each trunk burn taper-like -- bent low, A savage, bearded and long-haired, Wild-eyed across the pale gloom stared: And when his shifting, restless eyes Caught the drawn woman's birthtime pang, He shrilled a wild yell to the skies And high with tossing arms upsprang Beating with eager blows a drum And shivering with some terror dumb: The list'ning women once again Shudder'd and grew more chill with fear -- Not at the harsh drum's maddening strain But at the spirits that were near, The awful souls of hated dead That creep round each wild travail-bed; The white-eyed sheeted things that steal Down dusky ways, and lie in wait And from the shade their death-darts wheel And wreak unseen their deathless hate: For these the fierce drum clanged and beat The summons of a swift retreat. What strange thoughts wander'd thro' the mind Of her who writhed in travail sore? As, bearing scents and sounds, a wind Blows pregnant from some distant shore, So may have blown some wind of thought Memorious from a past forgot, Drifting across her yearning eyes Stray visions of lost happy days, And filling with strange vague surprise The dreary sameness of her gaze -- Dim, sweet memorial hours long lost, Scorched by long suns, numbed by long frost. But soon the wafted breaths that blew From off the deep drown'd past were blown Aside before some sharp wind new Of sudden agony. A moan Shook on her lips, and from her womb A new life crept to outer gloom. The watching women rose and went With deft hands unto her: the man Hush'd his tempestuous instrument, And with fleet silent footsteps ran To where, asleep in moonlight, lay Some huts rough built from branches stray: And soon thereafter, in the light Of the full moon, the tribe stole out And fill'd with cries the startled night -- Till, with claspt hands and one wild shout, They circled round the riven frame Of her whose blank eyes knew no shame. But as some feeble strength came back She stretched out thin and claw-like hands, With eyes as one who on a rack Yearns for mercy, or on strange lands Lifts outspread arms towards his own -- So yearn'd she, with a mother's moan. Within her famish'd eyes no more The hunger of the body burned, But on the fruit her womb long bore Their light unspeakable was turned: And all the hunger of her love Lighten'd the child's eyes from above. Vast, solitary, gloomful, dark, Primeval forests swept away To where the gum and stringy bark Against the granite mountains lay: Till, as the great moon grew more wan, Stirred the first heart-beats of the dawn. And o'er the pathless tracks where reared The huge white gum, whose boughs had seen The woman's birth-throes, light appeared And lit its leaves with golden green, And shone upon the straight trunk vast, Solemn with immemorial past. III Faint scent of lilies filled the room, Hush'd in sweet silence and asleep Within the dim delicious gloom: No windy lamp-flame strove to leap Amidst the moveless shade, but faint A soft light burned from censer quaint. And dimly through the gloom loomed large A carven bed that seem'd to sail Like ghost of some great funeral barge 'Mid shadow-seas no men might hail -- Till from its depths suffused with night The wan sheets dreamed to gleaming white. And lo, half-hid, like some white flow'r Breasting the driven snow, there lay Expectant of the awful hour A waiting girl, who, far away Beyond where vision reacheth, gazed With eyes by some strange glory dazed. Like two strange dreams they were, wherein Played subtle lights of other life, Deep depths, scarce cognisant of sin, Serene, beyond all clamorous strife -- Two seas unsoundable as night Yet lit to utmost depths with light. Silent she lay, as one who low In some dim vast deserted nave Bends rapt in mingled love and woe While the wild, passionate, sweeping wave Of organ music sweeps and rolls -- The burden of all suffering souls. Silent she lay, for as a palm Within a thirsty desert feels A low wind break the deathly calm And drinks each rain-drop as it steals Between its dry parch'd leaves, so she Felt God's breath fill her fitfully. The soft low wind of life divine Entered the darkened womb, and there It cleft the mystic bands that twine The folded bud of childhood fair, Which, as an open'd lily, fell From death to life's strange miracle. O perfect bud of human flow'r Immaculately sweet and pure, Shall God's first influence in this hour Through all thy coming life endure, And thou expand to perfect bloom Untouched by crash of neighbouring doom? Or, O sweet perfect human bud, Shall rains thee dash, and wild winds sweep Thy fair head to the mire and mud, And, with praying hands, thy mother weep Such tears of anguish as no pain Shall ever wring from her again? Soft, soft, the wind of life doth breathe: -- Some angel surely fans the while The faint new-litten spark beneath, And prayeth with a piteous smile That it may live, and living be A victor 'midst humanity. Silent she lay who soon should give This life to life: her secret thought Strove 'mid the happy past to live Again that day she ne'er forgot, That day when her young love took wing From maidenhood's sweet-scented spring: When hand in hand she trod the ways Flow'r-strewn with him, and felt his eyes Turn'd full on her with such deep gaze Of love triumphant, that the skies Seem'd but a hollow dome where rang Sweet tumult, as though angels sang: How the hush'd drowsy afternoon Slipt through the summertide, till low In the dark tranquil east the moon Rose vast and yellow, and more slow The flaming star that lights the west Lulled the sea-waters to their rest: How in the bridal chamber shone No other than the full-moon's light, And how between the dusk and dawn A wind of passion fill'd the night And bore resistless soul with soul On to love's utmost crowning goal. Silent she was, but as her mind Made real once more that perfect day Her body trembled, as a wind Had blown upon her where she lay, And in her eyes serene and deep Joys unforgotten woke from sleep. As on a mighty midnight sea Wind-swept, and lit by a white glare Where intermittent lightnings flee And deafened by the thunderous air Split up with tumult, one great wave Doth rise and scorn an ocean-grave, And, gathering volume as it rolls, Doth sweep triumphant till at last It thunders up the sounding shoals Of stricken promontory aghast, And leaves its crown of foam where high The cliffs stare seaward steadily: So from love's throbbing pulsing sea All lightning-lit by passion, reared A mighty wave resistlessly Of mother-love, which as it neared Fulfilment broke in one glad cry Of sweet half-wond'ring ecstasy. Hush! the great sea is still, and low The night-wind wanders; hush, for calm The mother waits the body's woe. Silent she lay; mayhap a psalm Of sacred joy sang deep within The maiden heart unstained by sin. Mayhap the inward vision saw The unborn soul arise and stand Great in a people's love and awe, Crown'd not with gold by human hand But sacred with the bays that wait The victor in the strife of Fate: And deeper still, beheld afar The billows of the ages sweep A mightier soul from star to star -- So ever upwards through the steep Dim ways of God's unfathom'd will But aye by fuller periods still. So shall it be for ever: evermore The mystic wheel of mother-love shall whirl Around the world, and link these three again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHY I AM AFRAID OF TURNING THE PAGE by CATE MARVIN ACCIDENTS OF BIRTH by WILLIAM MEREDITH ONE FOR ALL NEWBORNS by THYLIAS MOSS CURRICULUM VITAE by LISEL MUELLER |
|