  decorative THOU wouldst not be avenged if thou hadst but Insight enough into the human heart, Into its frailty and its cowardice. Thou wouldst not be avenged if thou but sawest How mad, how childish and how selfish are The helpless ones, that did thee harm because They thought—Ah! What then thought they! That perchance You hated them, or trod them down, or took Destroy thee, meaning well with thee—so well, That they as lief would see thee dead, not to Belong to what they hate—thy work, thy friend, Thy strong ambition, or the gift that God Hath put into thy soul, that calleth thee Away to other heights and other temples, Then where they long have worshipped. They dislike Thy road, thy word, they call it strange and dark, And they would lead thee back to where they started So long ago with thee, and show the wrong Thou doest quite unwittingly. A sigh, A smile is all thine answer, but thy way Is chosen; then the hue and cry is raised Against thee, and thy staunchest friends will pile Thy very soul, and not a tear will quench That fire, not a hand will save thee, for Thou art misunderstood, misjudged, despised, And hated by the friends, who once believed In thee as in their God. And what revenge Could help thee? Falling back on thee, thy arm Struck to the ground, thy heart a desert, not Devastated to bloom again, but burnt To lava by your heart's own flame of vengeance. And if forgiveness be too great for thee, Go past, turn not thy head, speak not a word That cannot be recalled, and that will bar The road for ever, that will cut the cloth Between thy foes and thee. The present hour Hath made that foe, who may come back to thee, And see thy truth. Be great and say: I have May lay them low, so low that they must call To me for help! Then is thy vengeance ripe! Give help with gentle pity. Feel that thou Art ready with a well of living waters, With flowers still more lovely than before. Keep down the flames that make thee a volcano. Let lovely warmth be all their strength. For thou Art called upon to love and not to hate, To help and not to punish, as thine eyes Are far too weak to see the consequence Of human anger. Even the volcano Is aimless, powerless, like Fate itself, And thou canst not be Fate. Ah! Be thou then A human heart amongst poor human hearts! |
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