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2002-12-14 - 10:37 a.m.
Not my muse
*** Fear no more the heat of the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages: Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To the the reed is as the oak; The scepter, learning, physic, must All follow this and come to dust. Fear no more the lightning flash, Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone; Fear not slander, censure rash; Thou hast finished joy and moan; All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust. No exorciser harm thee! Nor no witchcraft charm thee! No ghost unlaid forbear thee! Nothing ill come near thee! Quiet consummation have; And renowned by thy grave! --Cymbeline IV, ii - - Shakespeare always says it well, and so does A.E. Housman - - XIX - TO AN ATHLETE DYING YOUNG From "A Shropshire Lad." A. E. Housman The time you won your town the race We chaired you through the market-place; Man and boy stood cheering by, And home we brought you shoulder-high. To-day, the road all runners come, Shoulder-high we bring you home, And set you at your threshold down, Townsman of a stiller town. Smart lad, to slip betimes away From fields where glory does not stay, And early though the laurel grows It withers quicker than the rose. Eyes the shady night has shut Cannot see the record cut, And silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears: Now you will not swell the rout Of lads that wore their honours out, Runners whom renown outran And the name died before the man. So set, before the echoes fade, The fleet foot on the sill of shade, And hold to the low lintel up The still-defended challenge-cup. And round that early-laurelled head Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead, And find unwithered on its curls The garland briefer than a girl's. - - I always think of 1s when I read Housman's poem. He did not 'wear his honour out'. I could wish he had, were it not for my total confidence in Your perfect will. He would be in his forties now, and even as he trusted in You for his future, he would be facing in those dark nights that we all have, his own mortality and the disillusionments that come to all of us, even momentarily. The betrayals he endured were not to the death of body or soul, the illusions that faded away were not earth shaking, the agony and heartache were still in a minor key. As a parent, I share all those negative events in the lives of my children, and even as I know they must go through them for Your good purposes, they hurt no less. 1s was protected and spared so much, and even if he was denied so much, how can any of it matter when compared to the glory he now knows. He is satisfied in Your presence just as it says in Psalm 17:15, and I am satisfied.
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