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The
Book of the Native
by
Charles G.D. Roberts
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Origins
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Out
of the dreams that heap
The hollow hand of sleep,—
Out of the dark sublime,
The echoing deeps of time,—
From the averted Face |
5 |
Beyond
the bournes of space
Into the sudden sun
We journey, one by one.
Out of the hidden shade
Wherein desire is made,— |
10 |
Out
of the pregnant stir
Where death and life confer,—
The dark and mystic heat
Where soul and matter meet,—
The enigmatic Will,— |
15 |
| We start,
and then are still.
Inexorably decreed
By the ancestral deed,
The puppets of our sires,
We work out blind desires,
|
20 |
And
for our sons ordain,
The blessing or the bane.
In ignorance we stand
With fate on either hand,
And question stars and earth |
25 |
Of life,
and death, and birth.
With wonder in our eyes
We scan the kindred skies,
While through the common grass
Our atoms mix and pass. |
30 |
We feel
the sap go free
When spring comes to the tree;
And in our blood is stirred
What warms the brooding bird.
The vital fire we breathe |
35 |
That
bud and blade bequeathe,
And strength of native clay
In our full veins hath sway.
But in the urge intense
And fellowship of sense,
|
40 |
Suddenly
comes a word
In other ages heard.
On a great wind our souls
Are borne to unknown goals,
And past the bournes of space |
45 |
| To the
unaverted Face. |
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