NOCTURNE AT BETHESDA¹

I thought I saw an angel flying low,

I thought I saw the flicker of a wing

Above the mulberry trees; but not again.

Bethesda sleeps. This ancient pool that healed

A host of bearded Jews does not awake.

This pool that once the angels troubled does not move.

No angel stirs it now, no Saviour comes

With healing in His hands to raise the sick

And bid the lame man leap upon the ground.

The golden days are gone. Why do we wait

So long upon the marble steps, blood

Falling from our open wounds? and why

Do our black faces search the empty sky?

Is there something we have forgotten? some precious thing

We have lost, wandering in strange lands?

There was a day, I remember now,

I beat my breast and cried, “Wash me God,

Wash me with a wave of wind upon

The barley; O quiet One, draw near, draw near!

Walk upon the hills with lovely feet

And in the waterfall stand and speak.

“Dip white hands in the lily pool and mourn

Upon the harps still hanging in the trees

Near Babylon² along the river’s edge,

But oh, remember me, I pray, before

The summer goes and rose leaves lose their red.”

The old terror takes my heart, the fear

Of quiet waters and of faint twilights.

There will be better days when I am gone

And healing pools where I cannot be healed.

Fragrant stars will gleam forever and ever

Above the place where I lie desolate.

Yet I hope, still I long to live.

And if there can be returning after death

I shall come back. But it will not be here;

If you want me you must search for me

Beneath the palms of Africa. Or if

I am not there then you may call to me

Across the shining dunes, perhaps I shall

Be following a desert caravan.

I may pass through centuries of death

With quiet eyes, but I’ll remember still

A jungle tree with burning scarlet birds.

There is something I have forgotten, some precious thing.

I shall be seeking ornaments of ivory,

I shall be dying for a jungle fruit.